Let Me Be Your Wings
by ZephyrTheBunny
Summary: When David is raped, Kurt is the only one he will let in. As things get worse for Dave, can Kurt keep holding him up? Kurtofsky
1. Week 0

**Warnings: Mentions of rape, MPREG, and swearing.**

**AU from Blame it on the Alcohol **

**xoxoxo **

Fucking Blaine. He had dragged Kurt to this damn "Gays-Only" party and then completely ditched him. When sober, Blaine may have decided he was completely gay, but get a little alcohol in him and he went after anything on two legs…possibly four as well, but the opportunity hadn't presented itself_…yet_.

Earlier that night, when Kurt had been "privileged" enough to watch the love of his life giving a lap dance to the most tragic fashion victim, he couldn't help but ruefully remember Blaine telling him how he "wasn't good" with romance. Of course not! Who needed romance when you had the libido of a rabbit? No one had to worry about "wooing" Blaine, and he, in turn, went after the _easiest _target humanly possible. Well, what about Kurt? Kurt was slowly coming to the realization that no one would ever want him. No one save for a disgusting troglodyte. Kurt was just lucky Dave didn't carry around a club or he probably would have bopped him over the head and dragged him back to his cave.

At the moment, Kurt was trying to relocate Blaine: his ride. He was _so_ through with this damn party. He had thought a party of gays and lesbians would have been an uplifting tribute to sexuality. Well…in all honesty, with the alcohol thrown in, it was a full-on celebration of everything even remotely sexual. It just wasn't as _uplifting_ as Kurt had hoped. Well it was, just more in a "physical" sense. He couldn't much tell with the girls, but a good deal of the guys were certainly "uplifted."

Kurt poked his head out the front door and scanned the front driveway of Blaine's "advantaged" friend's house.(Kurt still failed to understand how anyone other than an athlete or musician could have a house this large). A brief survey of the cars out front revealed to Kurt that that ratfink bastard had _left_ him here. Kurt thudded back into the house and sat himself down on the arm of a couch. Whipping out his phone, he shot Blaine off a quick text, so angry he temporarily forgot his loathing of text speak:

**where the fuck r u?**

Kurt sat back and waited for Blaine's reply. When one still hadn't come a half hour later, Kurt gave up any hope that he would be able to sleep in his own bed tonight. Instead, he found himself a couch that didn't have a black-out drunk or lust-filled couple occupying it and allowed himself, with much trepidation, to drift off to sleep.

Kurt awoke early the next morning. Being possibly the only sober person in the house, he was the first one to wake up. Kurt couldn't believe how badly a house this gorgeous could smell. Everything was just booze and piss. Kurt was very disappointed with everything he had seen in the past day. He had expected a party filled with gays and lesbians to be so… _fabulous_. Apparently, no matter their sexual orientation, teens were teens. Teens plus alcohol, minus adult supervision seemed to automatically equal orgy.

Kurt made his way through the house, trying to find a bathroom to freshen up in before he could reassess his situation and find a way to get home. Checking his phone, he could see that the pompous playboy bunny still hadn't responded to his text. At the top of the stairs, the first door Kurt opened revealed itself to be a closet, the second a bedroom. Kurt was about to shut the door and try the next room when he paused. He stuck his head back in the door and reexamined what had originally caught his attention. On the other side of the bed, Kurt could see a pair of feet, covered in an old, worn-out pair of Nikes, sticking out past the end of the bed. _Oh god, it's like the opening minutes of Law and Order_. _I just found a dead body._

Slowly, Kurt made his way into the bedroom. Inching around the bed, Kurt looked over the body on the floor. It was a young man, lying on his side, a thick blanket draped over him, his head tilted towards a pile of vomit only inches from his mouth. None of that, in and of itself, was fairly interesting. What _was_ interesting, was that Kurt recognized the man. Kurt nudged one of the sneakers with his own foot. "Karofsky?" The lifeless body didn't respond. Kurt kicked the sole of Dave's foot a bit more aggressively. "Dave?" When he still failed to get a response, he bent over to get a closer look. _Oh great, Karofsky died of alcohol poisoning at a gays-only party. Can't wait until his so-called friends find out._ Kurt gingerly picked up Dave's hand, feeling around his wrist for a pulse. It took a minute, but he was finally able to locate the telltale sign of life. It was strong and steady; Dave must have simply been well and truly out cold.

Suddenly the hand tensed and jerked out of Kurt's loose grip. Dave let out a whimper and turned his face even further from Kurt, burying his nose in the shag of the carpeting. "You okay, Karofsky? I thought you were dead."

Dave sniffled into the floor and let out a mumbled "I wish I were."

Kurt shook his head, taking pity on the dumb jock. Surely Dave, of all people, should have been used to dealing with a hangover. A closet-case bully with poor grades and no _real_ friends was probably a prime candidate for teen alcoholism. Even still, Kurt knew what it was like to be hung-over. Looking around the room briefly, he realized there was an en-suite bathroom. He left Dave for a moment to examine the medicine cabinet, found aspirin and paper cups, and then wetted a face cloth with warm water. He returned to Dave, placed the cloth over his forehead and offered him the water and aspirin.

Dave's hand darted at Kurt's, knocking over the water, and causing Kurt to drop the pills before the same hand ripped the cloth off his head and hurled it across the room. "You truly are an asshole, Karofsky. I don't know why anyone ever tries to help you."

"Fuck off." He said it weakly and without any malice, only tired resignation.

"Think about it! Blaine and I try to help you, offer you support; you shove Blaine into a fence and threaten to kill me. I offer you some potential relief to your hangover; you smack it out of my hand. Finn offers to help you apologize to me so you can join glee and you spit in his face." Kurt could feel the righteous indignation boiling up through his chest like acid reflux. "Fine. Be that way. See who cares. No one. Absolutely no one. And do you know why? Because _nobody __**likes**_ you. You are cruel, vindictive, and possibly even evil. You don't deserve anyone's help, or pity. You deserve to just lie here, in pain, in your own vomit. And absolutely no one gives a shit!"

Dave, his face still nestled into the carpet mumbled something between pathetic little sobs.

Kurt crossed his arms over his chest and looked down at Dave. "I didn't hear you."

Dave turned his face back towards Kurt. "I said, 'I was raped', you self-righteous little fucking prick." He didn't yell it; his voice was dead and emotionless.

Kurt immediately loosened his stance and leaned back in towards Dave. "Oh, god. I'm so sorry. Last night? Here?" Dave just nodded and sniffed again. "We need to get you to the hospital." Dave grunted and shook his head vigorously back and forth. Kurt felt the bile in his stomach churning as he realized Dave apparently had no idea how close to the pile of puke his face was getting. "David, either you allow me to take you to the hospital, or I call 911 and get the hospital to come to you."

Dave shifted under the comforter, rolling onto his back; he let out a moan and a whimper. Everything Kurt knew about anal sex told him that the first time was, at best, mildly uncomfortable, at worst, downright painful. Kurt was pretty certain he'd be justified in assuming that Dave's rapist was anything but gentle with him. _Dave must be in horrible pain_.

Dave made a half-hearted attempt at getting up. When he was inclined up on his elbows, he stopped, and lifted the blanket before setting it back down. "Could you…maybe…" Dave made a weak twirling motion with his finger. Kurt turned his back to Dave and sat down on the edge of the bed. Behind him, he could hear Dave getting up, slowly, whimpering in pain and fumbling with his pants. After a lot longer than it normally should have taken for someone to get their pants on, Kurt felt a tap on his shoulder. Turning around, he looked Dave up and down; Dave looked like a wreck. His shirt was skewed to the side, his belt was undone, his hair on one side of his head was all sticking up, and from the way one of his hips jutted to the left, Kurt could tell he was resting all of his weight on one leg. "Do you want my help to get to your car?" Dave shook his head and began limping to the door of the bedroom. Kurt gave Dave's floor nest a once-over, forcing himself not to vomit when he saw the blood stains on the blankets. Whoever's house this was, was going to be in for some nasty surprises when it came time to clean, although on second thought, they probably had a staff to take care of cleaning.

The more Dave walked, the less he limped, though every now and then he stopped, leaned on something for support and just stayed there a moment. To anyone on-looking, it would appear as though he were drunk and just trying to get his "land-legs" back. Kurt assumed that was the case as well, but Dave was really just waiting for the pain to alleviate enough that he could walk without groaning or whimpering. When they got outside, Dave headed towards a black Escort and started fishing a set of keys off of his belt loop. Kurt held out his hand for the keys, expectantly. Dave looked between Kurt and his car, before handing him the keys. Opening the back door of the car he crawled across the seats and lay down on his side, his back towards the front of the car. Kurt climbed into the driver's seat and, adjusting the mirrors and seat, looked once more at the pathetic wreck of a man behind him. It was hard to believe that that pitiful creature had once terrified the life out of him.

Kurt stayed with David throughout the entire trip to the hospital. Dave responded to the doctors to the best of his abilities, but shut down when he was asked to speak to the police. Kurt could understand his reasoning though; filing a report with the police would likely lead to Dave's parents, or worse, friends, discovering that not only had David been raped, but had willingly been at a party for gays. Even still, the police took Dave's soiled clothes and DNA samples as evidence in case David ever decided to pursue an investigation. The hospital gave Dave a pair of non-descript gray sweatpants and a t-shirt to wear in lieu of his other clothes.

It was nearly dusk when Kurt pulled Dave's Ford Escort into his driveway. By now, Dave was feeling well enough to sit in the passenger seat and had seemingly zoned into his own little world. His elbow rested on the window frame of the door, his head supported by his fist, his index finger nestled between his teeth. They sat in silence for a minute before Dave sighed and reached down to grab the door handle. "Thanks, Hu…Kurt."

"You're…_welcome_." Kurt paused for a moment to think about his feelings regarding the whole situation. "I'm serious Dave. I'm just… _happy _that someone you knew was there for you. No one should have to go through anything like that alone." Dave was climbing out of the car as Kurt spoke. An old crumpled receipt on the floor caught Kurt's eye. He scooped it up and frantically searched around for a pen, or pencil. Finding one he began jotting his cell phone number down on the slip of paper. "And you're still not alone. If you _ever_ need to talk, about…what happened, about your sexuality, anything." Dave looked warily at Kurt. Kurt had every reason in the world to hate Dave, to want revenge on him.

Kurt could see from the nervous lack of trust in Dave's eyes that he was strongly debating with himself whether to accept the slip of paper or not. "You can trust me Dave. I promise. I won't ever tell anyone. This is your secret, your cross to bare…but you don't need to bare it alone." Dave licked his lips and took the number from Kurt, nodding as he did so. Kurt handed him his keys as well, before climbing out of the truck and walking the fifteen minutes back to his own home.

xoxoxo

Burt wasn't home when Kurt arrived, so he simply went up to his room and relaxed for a while, sprawled out on his bed, not wanting to do anything after the ordeal of the day. He had been home for two hours, listening to Pandora when his phone vibrated. Picking it up, he glanced over the message from the unknown caller:

**thank u**

A moment later is buzzed again

**I mean it**

Kurt smiled and responded:

**Anytime you need to talk I'm here**

A final buzz from Dave cemented the beginnings of a timid friendship:

**K**

xoxoxo

It was early Sunday afternoon and Kurt was in the kitchen with his father, showing him how to make pizza from scratch. Burt hadn't questioned Kurt's absence too much; Kurt just said "Mercedes" and Burt instantly believed anything he said. If Kurt had said anything about Blaine, he instantly would have gotten an awkward lecture on appropriate behavior. Burt's double standards were getting on Kurt's nerves, but he was just so grateful Burt didn't investigate the lie at all that he didn't push his luck.

Kurt was kneading the dough while Burt put some organic heirloom tomatoes through the food processor; Burt kept asking Kurt about the cooking, but Kurt was thinking so much about yesterday that he kept having to ask his father to repeat his questions. "Okay, Kurt. What's up?"

"Hmmm?" Kurt added a sprinkling of flour to the dough to keep it from sticking as he set it on the counter.

"You're off in your own little world. Where are you?"

Kurt had no intention of betraying David's trust, but at the same time, there _was_ something he wanted to talk to Burt about involving his former aggressor. "I want to go back to McKinley."

Burt switched off the food processor and turned to face Kurt. Kurt kept his back to him, his palms resting on the counter for support. "Excuse me?"

Kurt took a deep breath and focused himself. Returning to kneading the pizza dough and avoiding looking at his father, Kurt quickly summoned up the speech he had been practicing for two weeks, a while before he and Dave had seemingly called a tentative cease-fire. "I feel like a coward…like I _let _the bullies win. Blaine did that and he never stopped regretting it. I don't think I could stand myself if I went my whole life knowing I allowed _one_ person to chase me away from the people and things that I love. It's something I will never get back. I don't want that. I don't want to give him the satisfaction."

Burt put his hand on Kurt's shoulder and tugged it towards himself, forcing Kurt to turn and face him. "Are you absolutely sure, Kurt?"

Kurt nodded, not meeting his father's eyes. "Yes. Completely."

Burt thought about it, keeping his hand rested on Kurt's shoulder. He weighed his son's safety against his happiness. It was doubtful that punk was any threat to his baby boy any longer; the entire school knew that Dave had harassed and threatened Kurt; all of the staff would be put on high alert and New Directions certainly wouldn't stand by and let anything happen. In fact, Karofsky would probably even get his own friends to back down, if he had half a brain; if _any_one hurt or bothered Kurt, the school would try and pin it on Dave. Burt let out a puff of breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. "Okay. Then, I guess we'll switch you back. I'll call Dalton and McKinley Monday. You're _positively_ sure that this is what you want?"

Kurt smiled, "Yes, Dad. Thank you."

Burt patted Kurt's shoulder and lowered his head slightly to look Kurt in the eyes. Kurt raised his own head up slightly to meet his father's gaze. "So long as you think you'll be safe. You're the most important thing in this world to me, Kurt. That kid gives you any guff, you kick him in the balls and get help."

Kurt choked back a short laugh and thanked his father, again.

xoxoxo

Kurt met with Blaine at the Lima Bean later that afternoon. Blaine desperately wanted to apologize for leaving Kurt high and dry at the party. At this point, Kurt wasn't really all that interested in what Blaine had to say. He just wanted to tell him he was returning to McKinley and that was that. Blaine sipped delicately from his coffee while Kurt went over his speech in his head. _Oh hell, just get it over with_. "I'm going back to McKinley." Blaine looked stuck between spewing his coffee all over the table and gulping it down; instead, his mouth dropped open slightly and let the coffee dribble back into his cup. Kurt made a face and looked away. "I've thought about it a lot, and my dad agrees with me."

Blaine's mouth still hung open, in a dumbstruck look. "Kurt, but…what about Karofsky?"

Kurt shrugged, like it was no big deal. "Karofsky's just afraid. He has no one he can talk to, no one he can reach out to. I feel like _I_ should have been the one to do that, but I turned tail and ran. I betrayed him."

"Kurt are you _insane?_ He threatened to _kill_ you." Blaine plunked his coffee down on the table, his expression one of disgust.

"I've heard you threaten to kill Wes-"

"Yeah, for taking my _cell_ phone during a Warbler's meeting. I was _joking_!"

Kurt shook his head, more to himself than Blaine. "No, Karofsky wouldn't kill me. He's all bark and no bite."

Blaine leaned back and scoffed. "No bite? How many lockers has he shoved you into, how many-"

"How many dumpsters have Puck and Finn tossed me into? How many times has Coach Sylvester tripped me in the hallways?"

"My point _exactly_, Kurt" Blaine leaned forward and reached a hand across the table towards Kurt. Kurt, let him for a moment before pulling his hand back away from Blaine's soft grip. "McKinley is a dangerous place. Not just Karofsky. You need someplace that can keep you safe. Someplace like Dalton."

Kurt hugged himself across the chest and refused to meet Blaine's eyes. "Dalton is unrealistic." Blaine cocked his head to the side, his ample eyebrows knit together in confusion. "You're all teacup children." Kurt could see Blaine mouth the word "teacup?" but didn't voice his question. "You all look so nice and pretty, safe and tidy under glass. But the second you get into the real world, you're all going to break. Dalton is a fantasy world. In the _real_ world, people are cruel and violent. I need to learn how to cope with that, how to deal, especially because I'm gay and not very strong. I need to learn how to fend for myself in a world that is _not_ very nice."

"Kurt…please don't leave me." Blaine looked off to the side, trying to think of a good argument. "You're my best friend, please don't leave me." It was Kurt's turn to scoff. Scooping up his messenger bag he pushed in his chair and speed-walked out the front door of the Lima Bean. Behind him, he could hear Blaine knock over his chair in his haste to chase after Kurt. "Kurt…wait!...I _love_ you."

Kurt stopped dead in his tracks. He froze for a moment, feeling wet heat seep into his eyes. Kurt composed his expression and turned around to face the Warbler. Blaine looked so hopeful, like an unwanted dog at a shelter; his expression just screaming "Pick me! Pick ME!" Kurt took a deep breath,

_There's a fine, fine line between a lover and a friend;_

_There's a fine, fine line between reality and pretend;_

_And you never know __till you reach the top_

_If it was worth the uphill climb._

_There's a fine, fine line between love_

_And a waste of time._

_There's a fine, fine line between a fairy tale and a lie;_

_And there's a fine, fine line between "You're wonderful" and "Goodbye."_

_I guess if someone doesn't love you back it isn't such a crime,_

_But there's a fine, fine line between love_

_And a waste of your time._

_And I don't have the time to waste on you anymore._

_I don't think that you even know what you're looking for._

_For my own sanity, I've got to close the door_

_And walk away..._

_Oh..._

_There's a fine, fine line between together and not_

_And there's a fine, fine line between what you wanted and what you got._

_You gotta go after the things you want _

_While you're still in your prime..._

_There's a fine, fine line between love_

_And a waste of time._

Blaine smiled and closed the distance between himself and Kurt. Taking Kurt's hand with one of his, and cupping Kurt's cheek with his free hand, Blaine whispered softly, "_We_ are not a waste of time."

Kurt returned his smile, just as warmly. "No Blaine, _we_ aren't. _You_ are. You flirt incessantly with me from the moment we meet: I mean, how many guys just casually hold hands with an obviously gay guy they're never met before to go frolicking through school only so he can serenade him with a song about sex? And then you embarrass the hell out of yourself over a _twenty-four_ year old who damn well looked like he wanted to take out a restraining order on some deluded stalker? And then, even after telling me I have _zero_ sex appeal, you talk my dad into giving me a _sex_ talk. How creepy is that?"

Blaine shook his head. "I was concerned about you. You fawn over guys so desperately you probably would have fallen into bed with the first guy to show any interest."

"So, I'm a _slut_ now?" Blaine tried to defend himself, but Kurt cut him off. "And if you were so concerned about my wellbeing, why the hell did you get shit-faced…again, I might add…and ditch me at an _orgy_?"

"I can't win, can I?"

Kurt shook his head. "You lost when you started thinking about my affections as a game to _be_ won or lost."

xoxoxo

That night Kurt was up in his room, seated at his vanity. It was the only place in the house he was guaranteed privacy. Pulling out his cell phone, he shot off a quick text to Dave:

**I'm coming back to McKinley**

Kurt was surprised when he got a near instant response.

**Im not ready to come out yet**

Kurt let out a short sigh. What would it take to get Dave to trust him?

**I don't expect you to come out until YOU are ready. Not before**

It took a few minutes for Dave to reply to that; he wasn't entirely certain what to say, so he said what he felt.

**I doubt Ill ever b ready**

Kurt wasn't certain of that. After all, he had felt comfortable enough with being gay to attend that party on Friday. _What was he doing there anyway?_ Kurt didn't feel comfortable asking Dave that yet, so instead he replied back

**When and if you are ever ready, tell me and Ill be there for you**

**Y?**

Kurt furrowed his brow at Dave's quick, short response. He sat there and thought about it for a while. Why was he being nice to Dave? Yes, Dave had been traumatized, but Kurt had helped him, already. He didn't owe Dave anything. Kurt sat back in the chair, his arms across his chest, trying to figure out for himself why he was helping Dave. Tentatively, Kurt picked up his phone again.

**I guess because you aren't really the bully here. Society is. You did what society made you feel you had to in order to protect yourself and your own secret**

Dave's response took even longer than Kurt's

**society didnt push u into lockers. I did that. Im sorry**

Kurt felt a hopeful smile tug at the corner of his lip

**The fact that you are willing to own up and take responsibility for your actions makes me want to help you even more. It gives me hope**

xoxoxo

When Kurt returned to McKinley the following Wednesday, it took only a period for him to spot Dave. He carelessly tossed smaller students out of the way as he thundered down the hall. Gone was the cowering young teen in the back of the Ford, back was the Paleolithic brute Kurt had come to know and hate. But he couldn't bring himself to hate Dave in the here and now, not knowing what he knew, not having seen what he saw.

Kurt kept his eye on Dave as he pulled a book from his locker. Sooner than Kurt had expected, Dave stood beside him, staring him down. "So you really did it. I thought you were calling my bluff when you said you were coming back."

Kurt refused to look away as he shut his locker door. "I missed my friends." In a lower voice, barely a whisper, Kurt tacked on, "How are you doing?"

Dave shrugged, an awkward smirk, full of faux confidence, on his face. "I'm fine, why wouldn't I be?"

Kurt furrowed his brow and looked around, confused. Did Dave think he was talking about how he felt about Kurt being back? In a voice even quiet than before, Kurt replied, "David, you were _raped_."

Dave took a step closer and towered over Kurt, attempting, almost successfully, to intimidate him. "I'm a football player: a right guard for the McKinley Titans, the conference champions. I'm 240 pounds of raw muscle." He lowered his voice, matching Kurt's previous level. "I don't _get_ raped, got it?

Kurt steeled himself, leaning in closer to David, he said as sternly, yet compassionately, as possible. "Just like you don't kiss boys, or threaten to kill people, or go to parties where guys hook up with guys and girls hook up with girls?"

"I swear to god, Hummel, if you ever tell your lies to anyone-"

"I get it, you'll kill me." Kurt held his book protectively to his chest and watched Dave back away and continue down the hall, his head held awkwardly high. Dave shoved his way through two smaller sophomores that were blocking his path, forcing one against the wall with the strength of his push. Kurt pulled out his cell phone. As quickly as his thumbs could go, he typed out and sent:

**I told you that you could trust me**

Kurt watched as Dave halted his retreat. He could see him pull his own cell phone out of his pocket and glance down at it. For a moment, Kurt thought it looked as though David was about to respond, but he could just barely make out Karofsky shaking his head before putting his phone away again. Kurt sent out another quick text to Dave:

**Im still here if you need to talk. EVER**

Dave didn't even pull out his cell phone this time.

xoxoxo

**Song is "A Fine, Fine Line" from Avenue Q**


	2. Week 1

Corresponding episode: Original Song

xoxoxo

That was the last Kurt saw of "evil Dave." Over the next week, Kurt stood helplessly by as David seemed to fade. If Kurt reached out to touch him, he was certain his hand would pass right through; David had become so disconnected from the world of the living. Hell, even zombie half-time show Dave had more life than the specter of a man Kurt was watching at the moment. And the worst part of all? No one else seemed to take notice. Dave wasn't misbehaving, so the teachers didn't care. Anyone who wasn't Dave's friend was too afraid of him to say anything. And those who _were_ Dave's "friends," weren't the type to talk to each other about feelings. Dave was receding from life and they just let him.

Dave was standing by the wall opposite his locker, waiting for a small group of giggly freshmen girls to move away so he could put some stuff inside. The old David would have pushed his way past them. The new David seemed to have developed some kind of invisibility shield and it was the only comforting thing he had left: the knowledge that if he just kept to himself, no one would bother him. David shrunk back against the wall as someone passed by too closely to him. Kurt couldn't take it anymore. He _had_ to do something, but every time he had tried texting David since that first day back, David had just completely ignored him. Kurt wouldn't doubt in the slightest that David was just deleting the texts without reading them. But it was always worth a shot; he and Blaine had failed to connect to David that first time, Kurt didn't want to give up on him again.

**You look terrible**

Dave started slightly as his cell phone buzzed at him. He wasn't entirely certain how to react: Azimio had stopped talking to him days ago, so had Omar and Strando. Those were the only people he had ever talked to regularly. He looked both ways down the hall at the thinning foot traffic and, at long last, Kurt could see Dave reach down into his pocket. After reading the text, Dave nervously looked both ways down the hall again, trying to spot Kurt.

Failing to see Kurt a mere forty feet away, Dave responded to the text as best as could:

**Plz just lve me alone**

Kurt shook his head sadly to himself. Kurt was probably the only one in the world, outside of Lima Memorial and the monster that had done this, that had any idea that a once proud, strong teenager had been violently broken and potentially destroyed at that party not so long ago. Kurt would be damned if he continued to let Dave's cracks spread. It could only be so long before he would completely shatter.

**Im not giving up on you David. You need help and so far Im the only one you've come close to letting in**

Dave was finally able to get to his locker. Once he opened it, he grabbed out his books and flipped his cell phone up once again, checking Kurt's last message. The halls had thinned out significantly and there were less than a half-dozen students left. Those that weren't Dave or Kurt were all actively headed somewhere. As Dave read the text, he leaned his back against the lockers, sliding down them and eventually settling on his heals on the floor of the hall. Kurt looked around to verify the last of the stragglers had gone off to their respective classes before he approached Dave. He stood over Dave for a moment, seemingly unnoticed by Dave's clouded, faraway gaze. Finally, Dave took in a stuttering breath before he spoke, still not looking at Kurt, but rather through him. "I don't want your help. I don't want anyone's help. I just want to die…but I can't even have that."

Kurt held out his hand to Dave. Dave batted it away, but Kurt kept it there, barely a foot from Dave's face so that he couldn't ignore it. It was a battle of the will…something Dave had lost days ago. When he took Kurt's hand, Kurt made an effort to help him to his feet. As soon as Dave was steady on his feet again, Kurt dropped his hand, not entirely sure how Dave would feel about such familiar contact. "Follow me." As he turned on his heels and made off down the hall, he could hear David behind him, following along, unquestioningly.

After a few twists and turns in the halls, Kurt came to the auditorium. He held the door open for Dave and ushered him inside. "What are we doing here?"

Kurt closed the door behind him and leaned against it. He had thought of this on Monday when he noticed Dave seemed worse at some points than at others. "No one really ever uses the auditorium except for glee club. You can use the auditorium as your own private refuge whenever you want. I'll warn you whenever New Directions intends to use it."

Dave didn't respond, instead he walked down a few aisles, went in a few seats and plopped himself down. Kurt looked around for a few minutes, before following after Dave and sitting down two seats over from him. "Suicide is never the solution."

Dave sighed and leaned back in the chair. "I never said I wanted to commit suicide. I've been fantasizing about it for years, but…even _now_, after what happened, I never would, never could."

Kurt nodded. "That's good. But, I still think you need to talk to someone. A professional."

David let out a weak scoff. "Oh yeah, Mrs. OCD is just the person I should talk to. She has more issues than me."

"She is _far_ from being a professional. There are therapists that specialize in rape." Dave shook his head, Kurt could honestly say he was surprised David didn't have his fingers in his ears while singing 'lalalalala, I can't hear you.' "I called a rape hotline a few nights ago."

Dave stopped shaking his head and leveled a glare at Kurt that truly made his blood chill. "What the hell happened to 'you can trust me?'"

"It's an anonymous 800 number. They don't know my name, they didn't ask your name, they don't even know what state we're in. Please Dave, call them. It'll help." Kurt handed Dave a folded up slip of paper.

Dave took it and balled it up in his fist. "I don't _want_ to talk to anyone about this."

Kurt reached over and hovered his hand just above David's forearm; he didn't want to touch him without his consent. "Please Dave, ignoring it will not make it nothing more than a bad dream. You _need_ help."

Dave took Kurt's hand, still hovering in the air next to him. He played with Kurt's fingers, feeling the knuckles and experimentally bending each digit back and forth. "No…talking about it will make me re-live it over…and over…and over." Kurt took his hand out of David's and inched it towards Dave's shoulder. He let it hover there for a moment as David eyed it warily. Finally, David spoke. "You don't have to be afraid of me, I won't bite."

"I'm not frightened _of_ you…I'm scared of frightening _you_."

David shook his head. "You don't bother me." Kurt patted David's shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "I feel like an animal."

Kurt stopped moving his hand and thought about that. "I would imagine rape would have something of a dehumanizing affect on a person."

"Sudden sounds or movements make me flinch. Crowds. Getting touched without knowing it's coming. I nearly punched Anthony the other day for clapping me on the back. I'm terrified of being around anyone bigger than me."

Kurt lowered his hand back to the arm of his own chair. "He was bigger than you?"

Dave nodded. "Bigger. Stronger. I think he drugged me, though. I've been…_plastered_ before. It's never felt like that. I was dizzy and weak. So fucking weak. I could tell everything that was going on around me. I was just _helpless _to stop it. Do you have any idea what it's like to be so powerless? Completely unable to stop something like that?" Dave looked over at Kurt and analyzed his face for a few moments. "Of course you do." Dave's eyes went wide and he looked away from Kurt: like he was afraid of him. "That's what I fucking did to you isn't it?"

Dave started violently kicking the chair in front of him. Kurt wasn't sure how to react. He was worried for his own safety, but if he left David alone like this, who's to say David wouldn't hurt himself? "Don't you dare compare what you did to me to what that bastard did to you!"

Dave stopped kicking the chair in front of him and turned in his seat, pulling is legs up to his chest. "It's the _exact_ same fucking thing, Kurt. I went _out of my way_ to make you feel weak and helpless, because I couldn't stand how proud and happy you were. Even when people said nasty, horrible things to you, day after day, you still _loved_ yourself. This is my fucking karma. I deserved this. I got what I gave." Dave rubbed his forehead vigorously; it looked like he was trying to wipe the memories away. "You like seeing me like this, don't you? It's why you insist on sticking around."

Kurt reached out his hand tentatively to Dave's cheek. David jerked his head away, but not far enough. Kurt stroked David's cheek, soothingly he hoped. "I do _not_ like seeing you like this. Seeing you like this makes me feel terrible. Nobody…_no one_ ever deserves anything like this." Kurt ran his thumb over David's temple, trying to comfort him. "David? Please look at me." Dave shook his head and pointedly looked away. Kurt stood up and moved to the chair immediately next to Dave. Putting a hand on either side of David's face, he forced him to look up. "Whether you take my advice or ignore it, whether you respond to my texts or delete them, I _will_ be there for you. Do you understand? I'm _here_ for _you_."

xoxoxo

Third period the next day Kurt met up with Dave in the auditorium, again. Dave sat fairly close to where he had been sitting yesterday; Kurt sat down a seat away from him. "Don't you have class?"

Kurt shook his head. "Study hall. You?"

"Gym." Kurt cocked his head and looked sideways at Dave. "I would've thought gym would be your favorite class."

Shrugging, Dave slouched down in his chair. "I like working out and everything, but I hate gym. Always have."

"But you're so athletic."

"I almost never go to gym. Haven't in years. The athletes at McKinley don't have to attend gym since we get all the exercise we need during practice. And the coaches don't want us hurting ourselves playing kids' games or tiring ourselves out when we have a real game to play."

Kurt shifted in his seat so that he was facing Dave. "Why the aversion to gym?"

A huff of air left David's nose, "Middle school." _Oh, yes,_ Kurt thought sarcastically to himself, _that explains everything_. "The other kids in gym used to make fun of me. A _lot_. Puck called me a wooly mammoth." At Kurt's confused look, David elaborated. "I've _never_ had the best build. I'm kinda built like an ox: broad with a bit more meat on me than I'd like. And I hit puberty really early, so while the rest of the guys still looked as virginal and feminine as Justin Beiber, I was hairy and fat…like a wooly mammoth."

"Puck's just an asshole."

Dave crooked the corner of his lip into a small smile. "Yeah, but then I noticed that being around the other guys in the locker room made me feel…weird. I didn't figure out _why_ for a long time, I just knew it wasn't normal and I didn't _like_ the feeling. Now…not only all that, but, I just feel so…_vulnerable_ in there. And weak. I just can't go." Kurt nodded to himself, understanding full-well Dave's desire to avoid the locker room. "So how's everything in Kurt-world?"

It was Kurt's turn to shrug. "Mr. Schu is working glee club overtime. He wants us to write original songs."

Dave's small smile from before broadened slightly. "That sounds like fun. Mr. Schu is so creative. He's like…the one _cool_ teacher at McKinley. That zombie camp shit he had us do, that was just ridiculous."

Kurt smiled. "If you enjoyed it so much, you should consider joining us."

Even before Kurt finished getting the words out of his mouth, David was resignedly shaking his head. "Absolutely not. I don't want to draw any attention to myself. I just want to be left alone."

Kurt reached across the empty seat between them and delicately placed a hand on Dave's bicep. "I understand. But you could still watch us and just…_hangout_. You don't have to join or anything." David continued shaking his head. Kurt sighed to himself and decided not to push David. Not when he was doing so well.


	3. Week 2

Corresponding episode: N/A

xoxoxo

Kurt came skipping down the auditorium stairs, Monday morning (third period – as per usual) and plopped himself in the chair right next to David. David had his knees pulled up to his chest, in a sitting fetal position, but he loosened up noticeably when Kurt sat next to him. Smiling over at Kurt, David rested his head on top of his knees. "What are you so happy about?"

"We beat Dalton. We kicked their asses." Kurt was practically vibrating in his chair he was so happy.

Dave's smile broadened. He didn't realize that Kurt was speaking figuratively and basked in the thought of Kurt giving that annoying preppy boy a black eye. "That's awesome, Kurt. I'm really glad for you."

"Yeah, glee should be a little laid-back for the next few weeks, which means I can spend more time relaxing and shopping, hanging out with you and catching up in my classes…although I'm ahead of quite a few of them. I'm just…"Kurt balled up his fists and held them in the center of his chest, shaking them back and forth he let out a loud "squeak" like noise.

Dave let out a short laugh at Kurt's behavior. "Well…I'm glad you're so happy."

Kurt calmed slightly. "I'm just so glad to be back at McKinley. Going to Dalton was like going to school at a museum…without any good art. It was just stuffy and pompous."

Sucking in his bottom lip, David let out a sigh. "I'm sorry I took all that away from you. I'm just glad you're back and that you're happy. I can't believe something as silly as glee can make you so happy. I mean, you never really had any rep to lose, but Finn and Puck and Quinn and Santana, they were so cool, and they're willing to just toss it all away to sing and dance. I mean…what the hell?"

Kurt turned in his chair so that his back was to David. Draping his legs over the chair next to him, he leaned against Dave's arm. "It's so _invigorating_ to put it all out there. I mean, look at Britney Spears and Lady Gaga - or Jay-Z and Eminem if that's your style – we're doing what they do, just on a smaller scale." Dave chuckled; Kurt had no idea what type of music he enjoyed. "And you know, it doesn't matter if you can't sing, just look at Mike and Lauren, or if you can't dance, like Lauren and Finn. It's fun, letting go."

"I don't get it, but the half-time show was pretty fun. I just don't get how you can do stuff like that every week."

Kurt tilted his head back, so that he was looking at the underside of Dave's jaw. "It isn't always like that, but pretty close. We learn about music and music theory, we have weekly performances and of course dance classes. But a _lot_ of it is just about hanging out with people with similar interests. We're all so different, but music brought us together. Finn and I are brothers now; Mike never would have thought of asking Tina out, she was so shy; same with Puck and Lauren, never in a million years could anyone have seen that coming; Rachel and Finn; Artie getting on the football team. Glee is all about breaking down barriers…no, not even breaking them, _demolishing_ them."

Dave and Kurt were quite after that. Several times, Kurt could feel Dave's chest heave slightly, like he was taking in a breath to start talking, but nothing became of it. So Kurt let it go.


	4. Week 3

Corresponding episode: N/A

xoxoxo

It was Monday afternoon and Kurt sat in the choir room, awaiting the rest of New Directions. About half of the members were there, but all that mattered was that Mr. Schuester wasn't there yet. Kurt barely even noticed though. He hadn't seen David today, except in passing in the hall. He hadn't come to their third period "therapy session." Kurt had spent most of the day trying to figure out if that was a good sign or a bad one. About ten minutes after what technically should have been the start of glee club, Mr. Schu sauntered into the glee club. Clapping his hands together, Mr. Schu got the club's attention. "Okay, guys. We have a new _potential_ member. I'd like you guys to extend your warmest welcome to David Karofsky."

Mr. Schu waved his hand dramatically towards one of the doors where Dave was standing, looking nervous and freaked out. Kurt felt his heart plummet, he couldn't blame Dave for being nervous; over the pounding in his ears Kurt could hear the rest of the glee members hollering, cat-calling, and generally doing their best to make David know he wasn't welcome. David turned bright red out of embarrassment. Kurt turned red as well, but not out of embarrassment, out of anger. He stood up and spun around to glare down his fellow performers. "Haven't any of you ever heard of glass houses?" The yelling died slightly, mostly out of curiosity to see what Kurt had to say. "_Half _of you were _worse_ than David _ever_ was. Puck! Finn! Quinn! Santana! You bullied without reason, for the sake of feeling like a _big_ person." He paused to gauge the club's reactions: shock, mostly. "I know most of you are reformed, but are you so high and mighty that you can't even _consider_ giving David the same opportunity the rest of you have enjoyed?"

"Kurt, after everything he's done to _you.._."

Kurt cut Mercedes off with an angry wave of his hand. "_I_ have put the past behind me. I couldn't care less about things that happened _months_ ago. I would much rather offer David an olive branch and hope he continues to become a better person, rather than _shun_ him and reinforce the idea that he is a _bad guy_ and pigeon-hole him into a role he is clearly trying to escape!"

Judging by their expressions, the New Directions were clearly not appeased in their lust for blood, but their fury had died down well enough. Mr. Schu placed a gentle hand on Dave's shoulder and steered him towards the front of the class. Only Kurt noticed Dave flinch at the touch. "Normally, new members will sing a solo to give the rest of the club an idea of their ability and range. You don't have to right now, but if you want to…"

A steely, defiant gleam came to Dave's eye. "No, I know what I'm gonna sing. Turning to Brad, he looked him over quickly. Turning back to Mr. Schu, he gestured towards Brad and the band, "So, uh…how does this work? Is there a pull-string or do I pop a quarter in him somewhere?"

Mr. Schu let out a silent laugh. Smiling he responded, "Just tell Brad what you're going to sing; he knows most pop, rock, R&B, and show songs, if not, we have a wealth of sheet music for you to pick from. Dave nodded and leaned in close to Brad, whispering. Brad nodded, a thoughtful look on his face and snapped his chin towards the band, obviously telling Dave to talk to them. They huddled in close to Dave and several of them nodded. David returned to the front and center of the choir room and blew on the microphone, obviously un-used to working with one. At least he didn't say "Testing, testing."

_I hold on so nervously to me and my drink_

_I wish it was coolin' me_

_But so far has not been good, it's been shitty_

_And I feel awkward, as I should_

_This club has got to be the most pretentious thing_

_Since I thought of you and me_

_Well, I am imagining a dark lit place_

_Or your place or my place_

Kurt shook his head; _this_ was not the best song choice to ingratiate himself to the glee club. And even worse, Kurt felt a pang of…_something_ every time he directed one of the more "suggestive" lyrics towards Santana or Brittany. The knowledge that Brittany had at one point made-out with, if not slept with, every guy in the school further aggravated whatever that something was that Kurt was feeling.

_Well I'm not paralyzed but I seem to be struck by you_

_I wanna make you move, because you're standin' still_

_If your body matches what your eyes can do_

_You'll probably move right through me on my way to you_

_I hold out for one more drink before I think_

_I'm lookin' too desperately_

_But so far has not been fun, I should just stay home_

_If one thing really means one_

_This club will hopefully be closed in three weeks_

_That would be cool with me_

_Well, I'm still imagining a dark lit place_

_Or your place or my place_

_Well I'm not paralyzed but I seem to be struck by you_

_I wanna make you move because you're standin' still_

_If your body matches what your eyes can do_

_You'll probably move right through me on my way to you_

_Well I'm not paralyzed but I seem to be struck by you_

_I wanna make you move because you're standin' still_

_If your body matches what your eyes can do_

_You'll probably move right through me on my way to you_

_Not paralyzed but I seem to be struck by you_

_I wanna make you move because you're standin' still_

_If your body matches what your eyes can do_

_You'll probably move right through me on my way to you_

_You'll probably move right through me on my way to you_

_You'll probably move right through me on my way to you_

There was a smattering of unenthusiastic applause throughout the choir room. Kurt simply opted not to clap, feeling mildly upset with David. Mr. Schu (obviously oblivious to the fact that "the club" in the lyrics was intended to be the New Directions) was the only one who really appeared to enjoy Dave's performance. "Welcome to New Directions, Dave! Right now we're getting ready to prepare for Nationals, so things will be a bit all over the place, but it's always good to have nice, strong male vocals join the club."

David, while trying to wedge the microphone back into the stand (unsuccessfully), leveled a confused grimace towards Mr. Schu. "National what?"

Mr. Schu shrugged. Like it was obvious. "_Nationals." _At Dave's continuously confused look, the teacher elaborated, slowly. "We just won the show choir regional competition, so now we're on to the national show choir competition."

Dave took a minute to let that sink in. "How do you _compete_ at singing. Is it like _American Idol_?"

Now it was Mr. Schu's turn to look confused. Mr. Schu scanned the members of New Directions with a pained look on his face as though he were looking for back up. Kurt decided to help out. "Glee clubs from different schools compete against each other at sectionals, regionals, nationals, and, Gaga-willing, internationals. They put together set lists of songs, choreograph their numbers and then perform for a panel of judges. Whomever the judges decide was best, gets to move up to the next level."

David's confusion seemed to ebb for a moment, but then came back full force. "_Other_ schools have glee clubs?"

Kurt, for one of the first times in his life, face-palmed.

xoxoxo

"_How _could you not know glee competes? I told you, - what, last week? - that we beat the Dalton Warblers."

They were back in the auditorium the next day. Dave looked like he wanted to disappear in his seat. Despite the strong face he put on during his performance the previous day, the things the glee members had said to him had really gotten to him. "I thought that you, you know…_punched_ them or something."

"You think that _I_, of _all_ people, would lower myself to acts of physical brutality?"

Dave shrugged and turned away from Kurt. "I don't know. I barely even _know_ you. I don't know why the hell you hang out with me."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "You know damned well why I hang out with you. You need a friend, and I'm the only one you've got."

David kicked the seat in front of him before standing up. "Do whatever the fuck you want, I will _not_ be pitied." David walked down the aisle, in the opposite direction of Kurt.

Kurt sighed and stood up, he followed David until David got towards one of the side exits. Grabbing David's arm, he spun him around. "Is that such a bad thing? Pity? It's _compassion_; it's _caring_ for your fellow man when they're in an hour of need. I'm not going to lie to you, not now, not ever. I _do_ pity you. But I also _feel_ for you David. You have your highs and your lows. When you're low, I feel bad for you; when you have your highs, all I can think is 'god, I want to know _this_ David better.' I'm your friend, not _only_ because you need one, but because I _want_ to be." Kurt petted Dave's cheek and brushed away a stray tear. "When I said I hung out with you because you need a friend, I meant that we _are_ friends, in spite of everything else, but I'm the _only one_ you will let in, so that's why I am here, now. I would still be your friend even if you _didn't_ need one."

Dave looked Kurt in the eye. After a moment where Kurt pondered why that felt so weird, he realized that this was the first time David had made eye contact with him since his first day back at school. David's eyes had a thin sheen of tears covering them; Kurt could feel his own eyes pooling tears in the corners. Kurt tilted his chin up slightly, angling it towards Dave's face. Dave mirrored the motion and tilted his head down. Kurt closed his eyes and waited for David to close the distance. He felt moist warmth blowing across his lips before David pulled away, his tears streaming freely down his cheeks. "I _want_ to, Kurt. I really do…but I _can't_." This time when David ran, Kurt didn't follow.

xoxoxo

David was in his room half watching ESPN, half doing his homework. He really didn't have any idea what was going on with either. He had been thinking about the almost-kiss since it had happened. He _really_ wanted to kiss Kurt, and loved that Kurt had attempted to initiate it. But at the same time, he wasn't ready to accept the fact that he was gay, even if it hadn't been for…_what had happened_. On the other hand, he had been dreaming of Kurt for a long time now and the chance might never come again. He couldn't help but wonder if Kurt was genuinely interested in him or only liked him because he was pathetic and pitiful. But did that really matter? If Kurt liked him why should he look a gift horse in the mouth? Maybe he could just return Kurt's affections and someday it would no longer feel uncomfortable being gay or being touched.

He was getting good at putting on a brave face and acting tough, even if he felt like he was partially dead inside. Maybe he could take it one step further and fake it with Kurt, at least until everything felt okay again. A buzzing sound came from somewhere next to him on his work desk. Dave shuffled through some of his papers until he could locate his cell phone. Looking down, he was momentarily excited to see that he had a text from Kurt, but then he read it.

**Im sorry. I never should have tried to kiss you. I feel like an asshole.**

_Oh well, choice made for me, I guess_.

**Its ok. We can just pretend it didn't happen. And don't worry I wont threaten to kill you this time ;) **

David faked the jovial sentiment behind his words. Inside, he felt like a little more of him had died.

xoxoxo

Paralyzer by Finger 11


	5. Week 4

Corresponding episode: N/A

xoxoxo

When Dave entered the choir room, he was the only one not yet seated. He kept forgetting that he had glee after school and would get halfway to the parking lot before he'd turn around and head back to the club. Mr. Schuester was in front of the white board scribbling (crookedly) the week's assignment. As Dave seated himself, far away from the other glee club members, Mr. Schuester moved aside from the board. In big letters were the words "TOP 100."

Clapping his hands together, Mr. Schu smiled at the club members. "Okay, I know we need to be focusing on Nationals and a way to get there, so this week's assignment is a 'gimme.' Your job is to pick your favorite Billboard Top 100 song."

Some of the glee club members were excited about the idea of such an easy assignment, while a few (okay, only Rachel), were upset Mr. Schuester was going easy on them when they should be pushing themselves to do their best.

"The Billboard top 100 songs are published by Billboard Magazine based on radio play and sales. You can select any song from the Billboard's top 100 lists. Not just this week's top 100 lists, but _any_ top 100 list."

Tina tentatively raised her hand. When Mr. Schuester nodded in her direction, she put her hand back down. "So basically there _is_ no limit on this week's selection?"

Mr. Schuester smiled. "I think you all deserve a nice relaxing week."

xoxoxo

David was flicking through his IPOD, looking through his "Top 25 Most Played" playlist. Short of going back and forth through Wikipedia, he wasn't entirely certain how to tell if they fit the assignment. One or two he was pretty sure came out before Billboard started posting their lists. Then he spotted one he _knew_ had made it to the top 100. And not only that, but it was what he considered the theme song for the head-in-the-skies dreamers of glee club.

xoxoxo

Tuesday afternoon, Dave stood in front of the microphone in glee club, only mildly less nervous than the previous week. He had practiced it at home, including a bit of choreography. He was scheduled to be the first performer for the assignment. He had even spoken with the jazz band and Brad before hand.

_Na na na na na na_

_Na na na na na na_

Dave went up to Finn, directing the first verse to towards him

_Could you be a teenage idol?_

_Could you be a movie star?_

_When l turn on my TV,_

_Will you smile and wave at me,_

_Telling Oprah who you are?_

For the second verse, David climbed up the risers only to bend over and look down his nose at Noah.

_So you want to be a rock star_

_With blue-eyed bunnies in your bed_

_Well remember when you're rich_

_That you sold yourself for this, _

_You'll be famous cause you're dead._

_So don't go higher for desire_

_Put it in your head, Baby _

_Hollywood is dead you can find it in yourself._

Now in front of Brittney, he held out his hand like he was asking her to dance, but snatched his hand away when she put hers out.

_I don't want to take you dancing_

_When you're dancing with the world_

_Well you can flash your caviar _

_And your million-dollar car_

_I don't need that kind of girl_

He went to Kurt next, who was, once again, not quite pleased with Dave's choice of song.

_But you could be that next sensation_

_Or will you set the latest style_

_You don't need a catchy song_

'_Cause the kids will sing along_

_When you sell it with a smile_

_So don't go higher for desire_

_Put it in your head, Baby _

_Hollywood is dead you can find it in yourself._

_So don't fly higher for your fire_

_Put it in your head_

_Baby Hollywood is dead you can find it in yourself._

_Keep it on your head Hollywood is dead._

Sauntering over to Mike, Dave started doing a cha-cha like move.

_Well you can do the mighty tango_

_You can start your little thing_

_You can swing from vine to vine_

_While the kiddies wait in line_

_With the money in their hands_

He continued throughout the song in much the same fashion, picking a different glee kid for each verse.

_But if you get to California_

_Save a piece of gold for me_

_If it's the only thing you save_

_Then I'll bet you'll never wave when I watch you on TV._

_So don't go higher for desire_

_Put it in your head, Baby _

_Hollywood is dead you can find it in yourself._

_So don't fly higher for your fire_

_Put it in your head, Baby _

_Hollywood is dead you can find it in yourself._

_Keep on loving what is true and the world will come to you, you can find it in yourself_

_Love what is true and the world will come to you, you can find it in yourself_

_No no no no no_

_Keep it in your head Hollywood is dead_

_Come come Hollywood is dead babe woo hoo_

_Oh Hollywood is dead yeah yeah_

_Keep on loving what is true and the world will come to you, you can find it in yourself_

_Get it in your head Hollywood is dead_

Once again, Mr. Schuester was blind to the contempt David was showing towards the glee kids. Kurt shook his head. It was bad enough he wouldn't let anyone in, but did he actively have to push them away?

xoxoxo

"You know what? I bet he's a spy for Coach Sylvester. He isn't taking glee club seriously, and he's still being his old asshole self. He's just picked a new method of bullying." Kurt really wanted to voice his disagreement with Mercedes, but unless he leaked David's secret… _secrets_, he couldn't tell Mercedes.

"I bet he's just uncomfortable in glee club. I can tell he's really enjoying singing and dancing…and he's very good, might I say, but at the same time, everyone has made it more than apparent he isn't welcome. So I think he's just finding his own way to cope."

"Well he _needs_ to find a better way to cope, or my _foot_ is gonna cope with his _ass_."

xoxoxo

David was laying back in his regular chair in the auditorium, not asleep, but not really awake either: just staring at the ceiling. Kurt came up to him and slammed his messenger bag down on the chair next to David's. "Your immaturity is overwhelming to me."

Dave raised his head up just enough to look at Kurt. "What do you mean?"

"Don't play stupid with me. This stupid little passive-aggressive war you're trying to wage in glee club." Kurt had his fists firmly ground into his hips, he was briefly worried that the force of his anger would cause him to bruise himself.

"I thought the whole point of glee club is singing what you're feeling?"

Kurt shook his head, "Yes, but if you want to get along with people, sometimes, you need to just…ignore how you're feeling and play _nice_. Especially if you want to make friends."

Dave let his head fall back again, so that he was once again staring at the ceiling. "I don't _want_ any friends. I _like_ being by myself."

Kurt moved his bag over another chair so that he could sit next to Dave. "That might be so, but you don't want enemies, either. So provoking New Directions isn't a good idea no matter what your goals in life are…unless your goal is to get a size seven stiletto wedged permanently up your ass." David didn't respond…or even acknowledge him. "And one of these days…you might want to come out. I _know_ not anytime soon, but…_eventually_. And when that happens, you're going to need support. The best way to form a support system is to make _friends_. I get that you don't want to go bowling with Puck and Finn or whatever, but friends _do_ have a strategic use."

Dave sighed. "So what should I do?"

xoxoxo

Friday rolled around, painfully fast. When the last glee kid had finished their performance (Mercedes with Toni Braxton's _Un-Break My Heart_), Dave raised his hand. Mr. Schu nodded at him to go ahead. "Mr. Schu, can I say something?"

Mr. Schu smiled at him, "Of course, Dave, glee club is a place to express yourself."

Dave stood up and headed to the center of the choir room. Facing the rest of the students, he took a deep breath, "I get that glee club is a place to express yourself, but, I think I may have been expressing myself _wrong_. I have a…_less than pleasant_ history with most of you, and I haven't done anything to make that better since I came here. So, I'd like to apologize, to _all_ of you and, if it's okay, I'd like to redo my assignment." Dave turned towards Mr. Schu, and when Mr. Schu nodded his approval, David turned back to the microphone. "This is kind of like, I dunno, a message to myself. Maybe someday I'll get it through my fat-head." David kept his eyes down as he sang, not wanting to have to look anyone in the eye or see anyone's expression.

_I guess I just got lost, being someone else_

_I tried to kill the pain; nothing ever helped_

_I left myself behind somewhere along the way_

_Hoping to come back around to find myself someday_

_Lately I'm so tired of waiting for you_

_To say that it's okay_

_But tell me please, would you one time just let me be myself ?_

_So I can shine with my own light, let me be myself_

_Would you let me be myself?_

_I'll never find my heart behind someone else_

_I'll never see the light of day living in this cell_

_It's time to make my way into the world I knew_

_And then take back all of these times that I gave into you_

_But lately I'm so tired of waiting for you_

_To say that it's okay_

_Tell me please, would you one time let me be myself?_

_So I can shine with my own light, let me be myself_

_For a while, if you don't mind, let me be myself_

_So I can shine with my own light, let me be myself!_

_That's all I've ever wanted from this world_

_Is to let me be me_

_Please would you one time let me be myself?_

_So I can shine with my own light, let me be myself_

_Please would you one time, let me be myself_

_So I can shine with my own light, let me be myself_

_For a while, if you don't mind, let me be myself_

_So I can shine with my own light, let me be myself!_

_Would you one time, ooh, let me be myself and let me be me?_

This time, the glee club's applause was sincere.

xoxoxo

Hollywood by Michael Bublé

Let Me Be Myself by 3 Doors Down


	6. Week 5

Corresponding episode: N/A

xoxoxo

Dave was quiet today. Kurt was used to it by now. Sometimes David was happy and outgoing; sometimes he was withdrawn and sullen. What he was happy, they bantered playfully back and forth, talking about their days, their weeks, their friends (mostly Kurt's friends), and their classes. When David was depressed, Kurt acted as his default therapist. It wasn't one-sided, however. When Kurt was having issues with bullies, or simply dealing with ignorant jerks, Dave gave him invaluable advice on how to handle them. It helped that Dave was intimately familiar with most of the people who harassed Kurt on a regular basis: Azimio, Strando, Omar, Cooper, Donovan: jocks each and every one of them.

Even though David was quiet, he wasn't still by any stretch of the imagination. Kurt watched as Dave stood on the arms of his chair and walked around the auditorium like that: from the arms of one chair to the arms of the next. He had amazing balance and grace for such a large, lumbering boy. His balance was all that saved him from falling on his ass when he and Kurt heard one of the doors open. Dave stumbled for a moment before freezing like a deer in the headlights. Kurt's eyes went wide as he spotted Mr. Schuester heading down the stairs, head bent down as he looked over some paperwork. David jumped down from the arms of the chair, landing with a "thud" between two rows of chairs.

Mr. Schu looked up and eyed first David, then Kurt. "Uh, hey guys. What are you two up to?"

Kurt and David looked at each other for a minute before looking back at Mr. Schuester. "I…we, uh…"

"I'm counseling David in regards to his homophobia and bullying." Dave shot Kurt a nasty look before returning his gaze to Mr. Schuester. Mr. Schuester didn't look fully convinced. "Umm…David genuinely wants to be a good person, but, you know…old habits die hard. And it doesn't help that his only friends are all bullies and the glee club refuses to accept him as one of us." Kurt found the longer he talked, the more natural the lie felt. "I'm helping him by giving him coping techniques when it comes to adversity and standing up to his friends."

Mr. Schuester nodded thoughtfully, obviously pleased with Kurt's answer. "I'm glad you're trying to make amends David. And Kurt, it's good of you to put aside your past with David and work towards a better future…But don't either of you have class?" Both Kurt and David shook their heads in the negative. "Ok, then. I just wanted to set up the stage for today's assignment…" Mr. Schu paused in his descent of the stairs and looked off into nothingness.

A moment later, when Mr. Schu seemed to return to his senses, he continued, "On second thought, I think I'm going to change this week's assignment. I'll see you guys later."

With that, Mr. Schuester turned around and jogged back up the stairs and out the door he entered through, waving at them as he left. "Seriously?" Kurt turned to face David. "Did you _have_ to tell him that?"

Kurt shrugged. "I couldn't think of anything else."

"Um…how about we're working on glee stuff?"

Kurt held up his fist, his index finger raised, "One, it's Monday; we don't have an assignment yet, so that wouldn't make sense." Kurt put up his middle finger along with the index finger to signify his second point, "Two, now we have a blank check to be in here whenever, because _my_ story isn't something that'll just take _one_ period. Three," Kurt raised his ring finger, "Mr. Schuester now has greater respect for the both of us."

Dave shook his head. "I dunno; I don't like this. It makes me feel vulnerable…_insecure,_ like there's something _wrong_ with me."

Kurt sucked his bottom lip in. "Well…there kind of is."

Dave let out a snort. "So you admit that being g- ...being like, you know…_you_, is a bad thing?"

Kurt crossed his arms over his chest indignantly. "_That _is not what I was referring to. I was referring to your self-loathing and your need to take out your own 'insecurities' on other people." In response to that, David plopped down into the nearest chair and put his feet up, reclining so that he was staring at the ceiling. "So…on a lighter note, how are you feeling about glee?"

Dave shrugged. "Glee's pretty okay. The people in glee? That's another matter."

Kurt nodded. "Give them time. You'll be part of the family soon enough."

"Yippee"

Kurt smiled at Dave's mock enthusiasm. "Besides…I think Mr. Schuester might have had a brain-storm."

"Looked more like a brain _fart_ to me."

xoxoxo

_Forgiveness_

Kurt looked at the word on the white board. Did Mr. Schuester really think this was going to help at all? David, having already 'guessed' the assignment was flicking through his IPhone trying to find a suitable song.

"Okay guys. As you may have figured out, this week's theme is Forgiveness. You can look at this from two different perspectives; _asking_ for forgiveness, or _granting_ it."

Artie raised his hand, "Yo. Mr. Schuester, I got this." Mr. Schuester sat down in one of the empty chairs and ushered Artie forward to the "stage."

_Have you ever been hated or discriminated against?_

_I have; I've been protested and demonstrated against_

_Picket signs for my wicked rhymes, look at the times_

_Sick as the mind of the motherfuckin kid that's behind_

_All this commotion emotions run deep as ocean's explodin_

_Tempers flarin from parents just blow 'em off and keep goin_

_Not takin nothin from no one give 'em hell long as I'm breathin_

_Keep kickin ass in the mornin and takin names in the evenin_

_Leave 'em with a taste as sour as vinegar in they mouth_

_See they can trigger me, but they'll never figure me out_

_Look at me now; I bet ya probably sick of me now ain't you momma?_

_I'm a make you look so ridiculous now_

_I'm sorry momma!_

_I never meant to hurt you!_

_I never meant to make you cry; but tonight_

_I'm cleanin out my closet (one more time)_

_I said I'm sorry momma!_

_I never meant to hurt you!_

_I never meant to make you cry; but tonight_

_I'm cleanin out my closet_

Artie continued with his rendition of Eminem's "Cleaning Out My Closet" to the plaudits of his club-mates. David, far from being a fan of rap, clapped enthusiastically, faking an interest in Artie's song selection while forcing down an unexpected nausea.

xoxoxo

The week continued in much the same fashion with the gleeks sharing their song selections interspersed with little speeches by Mr. Schuester on redemption, acceptance, forgiveness, and camaraderie. On Tuesday, Rachel sang Taylor Swift's "Back to December" while Finn sang The Rolling Stones' "Prodigal Son." Wednesday, Brittany regaled them with her version of Lily Allen's "Go Back to the Start" followed by Bob Dylan's "Angelina" as sung by Puck. Thursday, Dave was still trying to stave off his nausea. He had no fever, no cough, no vertigo, his teeth didn't feel loose, his scalp didn't feel tight, so he attributed the horrible feeling to food poisoning instead of illness and opted to skip glee to lie down in the nurse's office. Friday he returned to glee club (not feeling any better, but hardly feeling worse), in order to share his song selection.

_Just one more chance_

_To prove it's you alone I care for_

_Each night I say a little prayer for_

_Just one more chance_

_Just one more night_

_To taste the kisses that enchant me_

_I'd want no others, if you'd grant me_

_Just one more chance_

It was one of David's favorite songs and he thought of his feelings for Kurt every time he heard it. He hoped Kurt realized he was singing it to him, without being too stalker-creepy obvious.

_I've learned the meaning of repentance_

_Now you're the jury at my trial_

_I know that I should serve my sentence_

_Still I'm hoping all the while_

_You'll give me, just one more word_

_I said that I was glad to start out_

_But now I'm back to cry my heart out_

_For just one more chance_

_I've learned the meaning of repentance…_

David felt his stomach lurch. His head felt light, his chest felt taught. Dropping the microphone David ran from the choir room and had barely made it to the hall before emptying the few contents of his stomach onto the floor. All week, eating had been a near painful ordeal; so many smells made the nausea worse and the foods that he could choke down weighed heavily in his stomach, threatening to reappear at any time. David was so busy dry heaving that even his subconscious didn't remember to flinch when he felt a hand come down softly on his shoulder. He could faintly hear Mr. S's voice over his own retching. "Why don't you head down to the nurse, David? I'll call a janitor to take care of this." David nodded weakly before straightening at the waist and leaving his embarrassment behind in the choir room.

xoxoxo

Cleaning Out My Closet by Eminem

Just One More Chance by Dean Martin (or Bing Crosby, I couldn't figure out who sang it first, I'll assume Bing Crosby, but I like the Dean Martin version better)


	7. Week 6a

Corresponding episode: A Night of Neglect

Mildly graphic (medical, not sexual)

xoxoxo

It was Monday morning and David was still feeling queasy. His dad, usually a stickler for attendance and punctuality had even let him take the day off from school. After listening to David empty his stomach every hour or so over the weekend, Paul couldn't deny that David truly wasn't feeling well, even if he didn't have a temperature. David lay in bed watching some inane morning news program where the two anchors tried to sound cute and funny as they bickered back and forth. If was pissing David off to no end. News shows were for news, not for comedy. If he wanted funny news, he'd watch John Stewart or the Colbert Report. Hearing a buzzing on the nightstand next to him, David muted the television and leaned over to grab his cell phone.

**You Home?** – Kurt

David sent off a quick "yes" before returning to the TV. A moment later, the phone, now in his lap, buzzed again.

**Alone?**

Furrowing his brow, David responded affirmatively again. A moment later he heard the downstairs door open and Kurt's beautiful voice called out his name. "What the hell, Hummel?"

He could hear Kurt bounding up the stairs and couldn't help feeling mildly violated as Kurt opened his door without so much as knocking. "I was worried about you. You looked out of it all last week and then you got sick in glee club. Are you okay?"

Dave shrugged. "Yeah, whatever. I just have a bug or something."

Kurt kneeled on the bed next to Dave, making him feel self-conscious about his shirt-less state. Kurt placed his hand on David's forehead and then his cheek. "You don't have a temperature, you aren't clammy, you aren't pale or flushed. I don't think you have a cold or the flu."

"Well, then it's food poisoning. All I know is I feel lousy."

Kurt shook his head as he looked David over. "No…you would _know_ if it was food poisoning. I got it a few times, as did my father, before I forbade him from cooking any kinds of meats, poultries, or fish without my direct supervision."

David pulled his comforter up over his chest, not liking having his chubbiness exposed to Kurt's scrutiny. "I don't know what to tell you. I can't keep any food down. The smell of my _shampoo_ makes me want to puke and I have a constant feeling of nausea."

It didn't go unnoticed by Kurt that David covered himself up. He was used to it. Years of being forced to use the same locker room as his straight male counterparts had made him acutely aware of people's discomfort around him. "Think maybe it's stress related?"

"I'm not stressed."

Kurt raised his eyebrows at David. "Bull. You've been stressed for weeks and I think we both know why."

David pouted and looked away from Kurt. "If I didn't get sick right away, why would I get sick over it now?"

Kurt thought about that for a few minutes. It sucked that David wouldn't speak to a professional. Kurt wasn't sure how much longer he could find all the answers for David. "Maybe it's been steadily eating away at you? Maybe the feeling of being sick over this has just…built up into…well, _this_." Kurt gestured to David in his bed, likely alluding to his current state of distress. Picking up David's cell phone, Kurt flicked his thumb across the screen, unlocking it. "Do you have your general practitioner's number in here?"

"Yeah…why?"

Kurt opened up David's phone app and began scrolling through his contacts. "Because as soon as we figure out _why_ you're sick, the sooner we can make you better. I'm going to see if I can get you an appointment today."

Kurt could hear David let out a little growl under his breath. "It's under 'Amber.' Amber is my doctor."

Kurt quickly found the name, had the phone dial the number and awaited the receptionists. When they answered, Kurt was quick to tell them David's symptoms and was lucky enough to get an appointment in the next hour.

xoxoxo

"You're like my mom…but _worse_. My mom just tells me to put on my big-boy panties and get over it."

They sat in the waiting room of the doctor's office, Kurt reading old issues of _Cosmo_ while David stared, dead-eyed, at the old covers of _The Saturday Evening Post_ decorating the walls. He fucking hated Norman Rockwell paintings. "Yes, well, I'd be inclined to agree with her if I didn't know what I do, if you were just mildly ill, and if it hadn't been going on for a week." They continued to sit in silence for the next few minutes. Suddenly, David's eyes went wide. Kurt watched as David shot, like a rocket, out of his seat and towards a door across the room. Almost as soon as the door was closed, Kurt could hear David retching. A young nurse came into the waiting room and looked around, "David Karsosy?"

"It's _Karofsky_. And he's in the bathroom…dying."

Having heard his name, David came back out, wiping his mouth with the back of his arm. "I'm not dying. I just _feel_ like it."

The nurse held the door open, "Come on back, Mr. Karofsky. Let's check you out." Putting the _Cosmo_ aside, Kurt got up and followed them, unbidden.

xoxoxo

After the nurse took David's pulse (normal), blood pressure (normal), and temperature (normal), she gave him a paper gown to change into and handed him a plastic cup. "Could you please go into that room right there, change and provide a urine sample."

David looked at the cup, then Kurt. Blushing, he replied meekly, "sure."

After David went into the adjoining bathroom, the nurse left Kurt alone in the examination room. The doctor, Amber, came in before David had finished. "Hello, I'm doctor Amber Rhys. And _you_ are _not_ David."

Kurt shook his head. "No, I'm just here for support."

Amber cocked her head at that, but decided not to question it. Little kids often had their parents with them at the doctors for support. Victims of assault sometimes had someone for support. Those suffering from serious diseases very frequently brought someone for support. Rarely did people coming in for a minor cold or flu bring support. "I've been David's doctor since he was about eight."

"He and I have been good friends for…years." Kurt stalled as he lied about the length of time they had been friends. It would be very odd for him to be there if he told the truth about how long they'd been friends.

Kurt could tell from the way Amber looked at him that she thought something was off. But she didn't voice any concerns, for that, Kurt was grateful. David came back out, trying to hold the gown closed in the back, while presenting the plastic cup to Dr. Rhys. "Sorry, there isn't a whole lot. I haven't been able to keep anything down long enough for it to pass my stomach."

Amber looked over the sample and set it aside. "That should be fine, David. So tell me, how are you feeling?"

David sat on the end of the examination bed, crinkling the paper liner as he did so. "I've been really nauseated for like, a week or so. I can't eat anything except rice, bread, and dry cereal. And even that usually comes back up after a while."

Amber began feeling around David's face, first his forehead, then his cheeks, then under his jaw. "No temperature, no swollen glands. Open up and say 'ahhh…'" Sticking a tongue depressor and flashlight in David's mouth, Amber made a low humming noise. "Your throat is fine. A bit red, but that's probably from throwing up so often. No scratches in there from fingernails, so that's good."

David glared at her. "I'm not bulimic and I'm not faking."

"Dave, I've been your doctor for ages. I know how you are about your weight. I'm just ruling out any possibilities."

Kurt felt slightly startled at that. David was sensitive about his weight? Now Kurt felt bad for all the times he had called David "chubby" or something similar. He knew he didn't like Puck and Finn teasing him in middle school, but had they actually caused the poor boy to have body-image issues?

Taking out her stethoscope, Amber listened to David's lungs, prompting him to breath deeply, hold his breath, release his breath, and breath normally as necessary for her examination. "Lungs sound fine. Okay, talking time."

Amber began asking David loads of questions, mostly repeating the ones he had filled out on a form when they first got to the waiting room. This continued on for a while. David appeared to be in peak physical condition based on his responses.

"Allergies?"

"Nope"

"Are you on any medications?"

"Nope"

"Are you sexually active?"

"Nope"

"Do you have any history of dizziness?"

"Nope"

"Wait, wait a minute. David, tell her the truth."

David turned to face Kurt, genuine confusion on his face. "The only time I get dizzy is when I don't get enough fluids at practice."

Kurt shook his head. "No, not that question, the one before it."

"Are you sexually active?" Amber prompted the question again.

Dave shook his head. "I'm not."

"_David_" Kurt said it in his best mother hen voice.

In a low, threatening growl, Kurt could hear David reply, "_That_ doesn't count."

Amber adjusted herself so that she was between David and Kurt. "I'm sure whatever it is, it _does _count."

David didn't look at either of them and stared, instead, at the floor. "David, please. She's a professional. She'll understand."

Amber placed her hand over David's. "Honey, I've been your doctor for almost ten years. Have I ever given you a reason to think you can't trust me? The law demands that you be able to trust me one hundred percent…If it makes you more comfortable, I can send Kurt out."

"He already knows." Amber waited patiently for David to go on. David sucked in his breath and expelled it, taking repetitive deep breaths, trying to compose himself. "I…there was this party. And there was this guy. Things happened and he…I didn't want to." David was trying not to cry at this point. His eyes and cheeks were red from fighting back the tears.

"Davey, honey. Were you raped?" David just nodded. "David, there's no reason to be ashamed. Who knows?"

When David didn't respond, Kurt answered her. "You, me, a couple of police officers, a few doctors and nurses at the hospital, the one that did it…and that's it."

Amber nodded. "David, I know this must be really hard for you to deal with. But you aren't alone. They have support groups and hotlines and psychiatrists that all specialize in rape. As much as I hate it, rape is more common in the United States than most developed countries. One in six women report that someone either attempted or succeeded in raping them. Many rapes go unreported, however, so some estimates put that as high as 1 in 4."

David kept staring at the floor, a little pool of tears forming on the white tiles directly below his nose. "But I'm not a chick."

"One in ten reported rapes are rapes that happened to males." David looked up at that, a tear dangling from his chin. "And men are less likely to report being raped for the same reasons you don't want to talk about it. So they're probably a lot more common than statistics suggest. There's a popular misconception that it's only weak or loose woman that get raped. But that isn't true at all."

"Weak and loose woman, weak and loose men," was David's response.

Amber shook her head. "No, honey. _Any_one can be raped. No matter how strong they are. There's currently an investigation going on in the military because there have been so many reports of male on male rape. There are _so_ many lies and myths about rape out there. _Any_one can be a victim of rape: men, woman, adults, children, those who can't defend themselves as well as those who identify themselves as 'tough,' married people, single people. In fact, spousal rape is one of the most under-reported rape circumstances because many people refuse to even acknowledge it as rape." David was listening quietly, watching Amber talk. "No matter who you are, any time you don't want it, even if you did initially, it's rape. Two people can be in the middle of consensual sex and the _second_ one of them says 'no,' if the other doesn't comply, it's rape."

David looked down again and sniffled. He was quite for a long while as Kurt rubbed soothing circles on his back. The clock on the wall ticked away incessantly until David was finally able to speak. "I was at this party. Kurt was there too, but I didn't see him. Not until later. It was a big house. I was hanging out on the back porch. A bunch of guys were back there drinking and smoking. Most of them didn't even look gay, even though I knew the party was specifically for people who are gay. There was this guy there, we sat next to each other on the couch, just shooting the bull for a while. He was wearing a hockey jersey. A local or school one, not NHL or anything, so I figured he must play. He did play, and we talked for a long time. I never figured there would be other gay athletes out there, other guys like me." David paused, smiling weakly at the memory of how relieved he had been to find out not all gay guys were fashionable, theatre-afficionadoes."I figured they were all like Kurt.

"He was the same age as me, but he was like, I dunno, six inches taller than me. And _built_. I think he was a goalie. That would make sense. We talked and drank for a while. After a long time, I realized he was flirting with me. It was weird; no _one_…guys _or_ girls ever really flirted with me. I don't exactly come off as 'approachable.' I wasn't interested though. I told him I was just there to try and figure things out. Even if I was comfortable and ready to date, I wasn't interested in _him_. He was nice, but not, like… _sexy_ or anything." David wrapped his arms around his middle and hugged himself tightly.

"I'd totally want to play ball with him or something, but not _date_ him. I didn't tell him all that, though. Just that I wasn't ready to date and was just trying to figure myself out. He acted like that was cool and whatever. When we ran out of booze on the porch, he went out to the kitchen and came back with a few Coors. I don't like Coors, much, but you know, once you're drunk, beer is beer. Sometime after I started drinking it, things started getting…fuzzy. My head felt light and fluffy, but my body felt heavy. I told him I didn't feel too good. He told me he'd help me find someplace to lie down until I was feeling better. I trusted him. He took me upstairs and sat me down on the bed. He told me he was going to take off my shoes and my pants so I could get comfortable. I knew something was wrong with that, but I couldn't really think straight. I tried pushing him away, but it was like my arm was numb." David held his arm out and looked at it accusatory, like it was his arm's fault he couldn't defend himself.

"I knew it was there, I could feel it, but it was heavy and I couldn't really control my movements. The rest of my body kind of went like that. I ended up rolling off the bed and onto the floor. He shoved my face into the carpet and just…"

David stopped talking then, instead waving his hand absently through the air as though the rest were self-explanatory. It was the most Kurt had ever heard David talk about the rape. Even talking to the doctors at Lima Memorial his story was maybe a quarter that length. David was eerily calm, but at least he seemed better than when he had been crying before. He seemed a little relieved, even. Amber stayed with them for another five minutes, quietly watching David. When it didn't look as though her presence was either helping or hindering David, she announced, "I don't think your symptoms fall in line with any STDs I'm familiar with, but I'm going to check your urine and see if that gives us any ideas. Okay?" Dave nodded and gave her a small smile when she squeezed his hand.

After Amber left, Kurt wrapped his arms around David's shoulders and gave him a tight hug. He pet Dave's curls softly. "I told you so."

David looked over his shoulder to see Kurt. "What do you mean?"

Rubbing his hand up and down David's arm, Kurt responded "I told you that you would feel better if you talked to someone, a professional."

David shrugged Kurt's arm off his shoulders, but Kurt could see a little smirk on his lips even as David turned away and sniffled. "You say "I told you so" to me ever again and I'm giving you a titty-twister."

Kurt tucked his hands under his armpits, his pecks protected by his arms. "You leave my boobies alone."

David nudged Kurt playfully with his elbow, feeling far better about himself than he had in weeks. "You don't even _have_ any boobs. Me? I'm probably a B-cup."

Kurt wrapped his arms around David's shoulders again and leaned his chin on David's shoulder. "_I _think you have lovely man-boobies."

David blushed. "You got to see mine this morning, my turn." Kurt just chuckled softly. "Seriously, tits or get the fuck out."

Both of them laughed at that. David placed one of his hands over Kurt's and began rubbing it softly. Kurt nuzzled the side of his head against David's. "What are we?"

David returned his nuzzling before responding to his question, "What do you mean?"

He could feel Kurt shrug behind him. "I dunno. We're friends, obviously. But sometimes, I wonder; if things had been different between us…what comes after this? If we could fast-forward, where are we going to be?"

David closed his eyes and tried to picture what Kurt was suggesting. He was pretty okay with Kurt touching him. Kurt was always so delicate and sweet and gentle: so much the opposite of the thing that haunted his nightmares. But what would he be comfortable with? Where could he comfortably draw the line? He decided to just be honest with Kurt. "I think…what we do now, what we're doing now, that's as far as I can go right now. I really like you, Kurt. I mean, I _really_ like you. But…even if things hadn't happened the way they had, I don't think I would be ready for anything."

Kurt nodded. "I understand. I promised you I'd stick by you and I'm holding myself to that. I'm going to stick by you until you're ready...for _whatever_ comes." David could feel his heart flutter as Kurt placed a soft kiss on his cheek.

xoxoxo

When Amber returned, Kurt still had his arms wrapped around David's shoulders. "David, I'd like to take a blood sample to verify my hypothesis." David nodded his consent. After Amber took the sample, she left and didn't return for nearly forty-five minutes. When she did come back her expression was unreadable. "I've contacted a specialist at Lima Memorial. He'd like to speak with you at your earliest convenience."

David frowned. "What the hell is it? The plague?"

Amber shook her head. "Not quite. What I believe it to be is very curable. However, I don't have the available tools to confirm my hypothesis, although your blood sample did support it. Dr. Novak _can_ confirm or deny it and if he _does_ confirm my suspicions, he'll be the one to treat you."

David pulled himself away from Kurt. "This isn't contagious, is it?"

Amber shook her head. "No. If it's what I believe it is, it's…it would likely be classified as a genetic disorder or developmental disorder."

"So this is something he's had his whole life? Why is he just now showing symptoms?" David nodded, wondering the same thing Kurt had just asked.

"_If _it's what I think it is, you've been displaying small symptoms your whole life; however, the rape aggravated some aspects of the disorder to the point that it's readily visible. You should really talk to Dr. Novak, David, he can help you far more than I can." Dr. Rhys looked flustered, like she wanted to tell them more, but wasn't certain if it was a good idea.

"Is he available today?"

"He's available _now."_


	8. Week 6b

Corresponding episode: A Night of Neglect

Mildly graphic (medical, not sexual)

xoxoxo

Kurt walked beside David into Lima Memorial. He hated this place. There were too many bad memories: his neck surgery when he was little, his mother's slow decay, his father's coma. He'd be happy if he never had to come back. Kurt followed David to a little information desk in the center of the front hall. "I'm here to see Dr. Novak. He's expecting me."

The receptionist looked through her computer, "Dr. Novak is in office 325 East."

Kurt thanked her as David headed off towards the elevator. When the doors to the elevator closed, they were alone in the small, mobile room. Kurt felt David's knuckles rub against his own. Kurt looked down and saw David intentionally brush his hand against Kurt's again. Kurt smiled and slipped his hand into David's. With a population of nearly 40,000 people in Lima, plus all the surrounding cities and towns that used Lima Memorial as their hospital, neither Kurt nor David were too concerned about running into anyone they knew. They continued holding hands when the elevator doors opened and as they walked down the hall. After going around several corners, they found 325 East and knocked on the door. A balding, sixty-ish man opened the door and smiled at them. "David?" David nodded. "I'm glad you came. Assuming Dr. Rhys assumptions are correct, I can't begin to tell you how happy I am to meet you."

David felt at a loss for words; Kurt on the other hand, "David has some sort of genetic disorder that is making him ridiculously ill, and you're _happy_?"

Dr. Novak lowered his head slightly, "I'm sorry if that came off rather crass. _If_ it's what Dr. Rhys thinks, it isn't necessarily dangerous and the aspects of it causing David's symptoms are _very_ easily taken care of. But before we jump the gun, how about I check you out?"

David nodded and he and Kurt followed Dr. Novak to an exam room. David changed into a cotton hospital outfit while Kurt sat on the other side of the privacy curtain and Dr. Novak went in search of a nurse and an ultrasound cart. "Why do you think they need to do an ultrasound?"

Kurt thought about it for a minute. "I'm pretty sure they use ultrasounds for _lots_ of different things. Not just ob-gyn stuff. Like checking for differences in tissue density. And tumors, too, I think."

Dr. Novak wasn't gone long. After knocking, he came in, followed by a nurse and the cart. "Okay David, I'd like you to lie back and lift your shirt up."

Kurt pulled back the privacy curtain so he could watch. Part of him felt like a pervert, but at the same time, he was genuinely curious as well as concerned. He and David had become close the last month or so and Kurt hoped they'd eventually be closer.

"Okay, David, this is going to be a bit cold." David flinched as Dr. Novak squirted gel onto David's exposed abdomen before putting the ultrasound receptor thingy a few inches below David's belly button. He moved the receptor around for a few moments while watching the screen. Kurt heard a small gasp next to him. Looking over, he saw the nurse, her head cocked to the side, an eyebrow quirked and her mouth slightly agape. Whatever she saw on the ultrasound was something she had obviously never seen before, and never expected to see. Dr. Novak nodded, switched off the screen and handed the receptor to the nurse. She took the cart as well and wheeled it out of the room, throwing one last astounded look over her shoulder at David before leaving.

"What's wrong with me?" David's voice was slightly higher than usual and breaking partway through the sentence.

"Dr. Rhys was correct in her diagnosis. David, you have what is called Cohesive Klinefelter's syndrome. Klinefelter's is actually pretty common disorder among males. _Cohesive_ Klinefelter's is somewhat more rare."

"But what _is_ it?"

"Males are born with an X chromosome from their mother, and a Y chromosome from their father. Girls are born with two X chromosomes: one from each parent. About one in five hundred males inherit an _extra_ X chromosome. Usually it doesn't result in anything but hypogonadism and infertility."

David frowned. "I'm never gonna be able to have kids?"

Dr. Novak held up his hand. "This'll be a lot easier if you let me finish. _Cohesive_ Klinefelter's syndrome is different from typical Klinefelter's syndrome. Cohesive Klinefelter's syndrome occurs when the second X chromosome cooperates with the other two chromosomes: a very rare occurrence. Generally, only one in seven hundred Klinefelter's cases are Cohesive Klinefelter's syndrome. With Cohesive Klinefelter's syndrome, you have a fully functioning XY combination, and a fully functioning XX combination: true hermaphroditism. You have a fully functioning set of all the male organs, but you _also_ have a fully functioning set of all the female organs."

Dave's eyes went wide. "Oh, FUCK _that_! I'm a seventeen year-old _dude_. I am _very_ intimately familiar with my body. _Especially_ down there." David gestured to his crotch. "I would _know_ if I had a cootch!" Kurt didn't even know how to react or whether he should try comforting David.

Dr. Novak waited for David to stop yelling. When he did, Dr. Novak continued, rather calmly, in Kurt's opinion. "The female organs in Cohesive Klinefelter's syndrome can…_present_ in different ways. Around two-thirds of CK patients are born with the vaginal passage located between the testes and the anus." Kurt blushed at that. "Those Klinefelter's patients generally undergo gender reassignment surgery when they're young. The other third of Cohesive Klinefelter's patients lack a vaginal passage. Instead, the cervix is located within the anus."

David paled. If Kurt wasn't already as white as a sheet, he probably would have paled as well. "I've never…had a period or anything."

"You wouldn't. Klinefelter's patients _very_ rarely menstruate. Although a large percentage of them are capable of conceiving. Which brings me to your recent illness."

Kurt caught on to where this was going as soon as David mentioned never getting a period. Everything Amber had said, everything Dr. Novak had said so far, the nurse's reaction to the ultrasound. "Is David pregnant?"

David looked quickly to Kurt then back to Dr. Novak, his panic evident in his eyes. "Yes. Judging by the ultrasound, David is roughly 5 to 6 weeks pregnant."

Kurt had heard of male pregnancy before. It was rare, very rare. But he could remember seeing something about it in National Geographic a few years ago. "I read male pregnancy is dangerous."

"Yes. In third and second world countries, it generally has a 100% mortality rate for both the fetus and the carrier. Not only due to lack of appropriate medical attention, but societal and cultural issues as well. In a first world country, with quick access to a full-service hospital such as this, the numbers are generally around 70% mortality rate for the fetus, 40% mortality rate for the carrier. Just because some males are _capable_ of conceiving, doesn't mean that they are _supposed_ to. Males are far more susceptible to any and every pregnancy complication you can think of: hypertension, placental abruption, placenta accreta, placenta previa, incompetent cervix, fetal growth restriction, ectopic pregnancy, preeclampsia, any number of infections, you name it."

Kurt took David's hand and just held it. "So why's David's morning sickness so bad? Our friend Quinn was pregnant last year and her morning sickness wasn't nearly as bad."

Dr. Novak pulled a rolling chair over to the end of the bed so he could talk more easily to the two of them. "About one percent of women get what is called hyperemesis gravidarum during pregnancy. It's an extreme case of morning sickness that results in dehydration, weight loss, low blood potassium, high blood pH levels. Around a _quarter_ of male pregnancies involve hyperemesis gravidarum. I'm strongly recommending that the two of you talk this over with your families. Many of the most common complications during male pregnancies can either be remedied or identified early so you can weigh your options. I'd like you come back in next week and we'll either abort, or run some tests to see if we want to abort."

In his shock from all he had just learned, it took Kurt a minute realize that Dr. Novak thought he was the father…the _other_ father. He didn't bother to correct Dr. Novak, however. Whether Dave even noticed or not, Kurt didn't know, but Kurt did notice was that if David _had _noticed what Dr. Novak had said, he didn't correct him, either.

xoxoxo

Novak sent David home with a prescription for an antiemetic: a drug to help counteract his morning sickness. He also gave David a list of different nutritional supplements to help him with any vitamin deficiencies the nausea may cause. He suggested David stick to foods from the grain family: rice, cereals, noodles, crackers, plus Jello and lots of liquids. He also had an appointment to return in a week so they could proceed from there.

It was only two thirty when Kurt pulled into David's driveway. Kurt couldn't believe that the longest day of his life took place entirely over the course of only four and a half hours. Dave had been pensive the entire ride home; it reminded Kurt too much of the last time he had driven David home from the hospital. When Kurt turned off the engine he reached across the void between their two seats and took David's hand. They both sat in silence for a few moments, staring at the outside of the garage door. "I get it if…everything from earlier…I mean." Kurt looked over at David and saw him squeeze his eyes shut as he concentrated. David took a deep breath. "I'd understand if you want to forget everything that happened between us in Amber's office."

Kurt pulled David's hand into his lap and covered it with his free hand. "I like you Dave. And I'm _still_ sticking by you." David looked into Kurt's eyes; they were a deeper green than usual. Kurt forced out a nervous laugh, "You'll have to come up with something better than," Kurt picked up one of the papers Novak and given them, "_Cohesive Klinefelter's syndrome_ in order to get rid of me." David smiled and pulled Kurt's hand back over to his own side and kissed the back of the knuckles one by one.

xoxoxo

David took Tuesday off from school so he could give the medications a chance to kick in. He found that, with the medication, he could keep bland foods down, but anything with any real flavor or scent wasn't affected by the medication and eventually came right back up.

Wednesday he returned to school and the glee club. Some benefit concert Mr. Schuester had mentioned the previous week was by and large the main subject of glee club for the week. When David settled down for glee, Mr. Schuester brought him up to speed by telling him that on Friday they would be having a benefit concert to raise money for the glee club's trip to New York and the Brainiacs to go to some competition. Each of the glee members was supposed to sing a song by a neglected artist. "Mr. Schu, I'm still really out of it. I don't think I'll be able to make the Night of Neglect."

"Have you been to the doctor's, Dave?"

Dave's eyes darted quickly to Kurt on the other side of the room. "Uh, yeah. They put me on some drugs and they seem to be working. But I was sick for so long that I'm kinda sapped of energy. Can I just do my song for the glee club?"

Mr. Schuester seemed to fret about it for a minute. "I'd really like you to join us David, but I'm not going to make you do anything that might make you worse. Do you know what song you want to sing for us?"

David thought about it for a minute. "Yeah, but can I do it later? I want to practice it first."

Mr. Schuester nodded.

xoxoxo

By the time Friday came, David and everyone else was sick and tired of Mercedes' diva-attitude. David didn't really care about Mercedes so much, but Kurt was so busy trying to talk some sense into her that he and Kurt didn't have much time to spend together. It was just as well, really. David had a lot of things to think over without any outside influence.

He stood in front of the New Directions. Mercedes had opted not to come to the last meeting before the benefit concert, but at least Kurt was there. Dave tried smiling at Kurt without being too obvious. He wasn't sure if anyone else saw the smile, but Kurt did. Kurt returned his own heartfelt smile at David. Kurt had been such a rock of stability to David. David had been positive Kurt would ditch him as soon as he found out he was not only a hermaphrodite, but a pregnant one. Instead, Kurt had called him every night to make sure he was doing okay; over-eating lots of carb-rich foods, getting plenty of fluids, taking his medication and his vitamins. He wasn't sure if Kurt was more interested in being his boyfriend or his mother.

_Where the deep blue pearly waters_

_Wash upon white silver sands_

_There on the brink of love I kissed her_

_And obeyed our hearts command_

_Where the deep blue pearly waters_

_Wash upon white silver sands_

_We watched the sun set in the evening_

_In a far and distant land_

_So were beneath skies blue heaven_

_There's a place I must go_

_See the sun set in the evening_

_With the only love I know_

_Where the deep blue pearly waters_

_Wash upon white silver sands_

_There on the brink of love I kissed her_

_And obeyed our hearts command_

_Where the deep blue pearly waters_

_Wash upon white silver sands_

_There on the brink of love I kissed her_

_And obeyed our hearts command_

_We watched the sun set in the evening_

_See the moon yellow and pale_

_Watch the gaucho's ride the pinto's_

_All across the pampas trail_

_Where the deep blue pearly waters_

_Wash upon white silver sands_

_There on the brink of love I kissed her_

_And obeyed our hearts command_

xoxoxo

"I can't believe how much you missed tonight Dave, but be glad you weren't there." Dave lay in bed, his phone pressed to his ear as he listened to Kurt talk. "First of all, Sunshine never bothered to show, nor did any of her twitter followers."

"Ugh, that sucks"

"Yeah, no kidding. In fact, the only people who _did_ show, were Sue's newest school club: the hecklers."

Dave adjusted the phone. "The hecklers?"

"Yep. A club devoted to heckling, comprising Sandy Ryerson-"

"God he's such a creeper."

"Don't judge too quickly. Azimio, Jacob Ben Israel, and Becky Jackson. Poor Tina cried herself off the stage."

"I don't think I've ever heard her finish a solo."

Kurt thought about that for a second. "Yeah, I'm not sure I have either. Anyway, Rachel eventually got Mercedes under control and she finished up the show. Sandy loved her performance so much that he opted to fund both _our_ trip _and_ the Brainiac's, _in full_."

David sat up a bit faster than his stomach was happy with. He ignored the mild nausea, use to much worse by now. "That's fucking awesome, Kurt!"

"I know!"

"What the hell did she sing?"

"'_Ain't No Way_' by Aretha Franklin." Kurt could hear David groan on the other end of the line. "What's wrong?"

"I'm just seriously sick of the R&B. Can't she do anything else?"

"Don't you dare talk shit about my girl!" Kurt didn't sound too serious in his outrage, but David knew insulting Mercedes would be treading on thin ice with Kurt.

"Sorry! I just can't stand R&B."

"She does gospel every now and then."

"Oh yes, because that has _so_ much audience appeal."

Kurt couldn't _see_ David roll his eyes, but he could hear it in the tone of his voice. "Okay, you stop being mean now…See you Monday?"

"Yep. You going to the doctor's with me?"

"Four o'clock, right?"

"Right."

"Yep."

"Okay…good night."

"Night, Dave."

David heard a dial tone on Kurt's end of the line.

"I love you, Kurt."

xoxoxo

**White Silver Sands by Don Rondo**

**Klinefelter's syndrome is real**

**Cohesive Klinefelter's syndrome in not**

**So…anyone else think Canon!David's going to join Shelby's new glee club? Or fill an absence in the New Directions?**

**To those of you who read lots of Kurtofsky, I used to follow a story where David posted strip-tease videos of himself on porn sites that Kurt stumbled upon. Anyone know the name/author of this fic? I want to re-read it, but can't find it. It was sex-tacular…**

**To anon reviewer who said the following:**

"**This would be much more interesting & original if you didn't make him pregnant, but sadly I can see it coming."**

**I should hope you could "see it coming" since it's in the first line of the first chapter.**

**Secondly, I'm a bit insulted you say that making David pregnant is "unoriginal." At the time I began writing this, there was only one other David MPREG out there to my knowledge, Ongakukoi's "Somehow." David's MPREG is the **_**whole **_**reason I'm writing this. If you don't find it interesting or original, don't read it. Ta-da?**


	9. Week 7a

**Corresponding episode: Born This Way**

**Mildly graphic (medical, not sexual)**

**A lot of foul language**

**Some minor blasphemy**

xoxoxo

Dave followed along with Mr. Shuester's horrible choreography instructions. Why wasn't Mike or Brittany teaching this portion of the class? Hell, Finn could probably teach it better. Speaking of which. _Oh, shit_. David didn't like Rachel all that much, but he still winced in sympathy when he saw Finn's elbow connect to her nose. Even though she had her hands covering her nose, David could make out slight bruising pooling around her eyes.

xoxoxo

Kurt met David at the hospital; someone would have noticed if they drove together from school. Kurt slipped his hand into David's, just like he had last week. David smiled, still completely shocked that Kurt hadn't disowned him as some kind of freak. They met Novak in his office, taking the offered seats in front of his desk.

"So, David. First things first: how are the medications working for you?" Novak folded his hands on his desk and watched David across the desk.

"Um…yeah. They're working out pretty well, I guess. I still can't really eat anything other than what you told me to." Novak nodded. "I only throw up a few times a day now, two or three times. And it isn't so sudden as it was before. I can usually get to the bathroom on time, thankfully." David chuckled awkwardly.

"The medication isn't a miracle cure, but I'm glad it seems to be working well for you. Now, on to the important stuff. You talked to your families, I'm assuming?"

David and Kurt exchanged nervous glances. Kurt wasn't going to say anything to his family because it didn't concern them and Kurt knew well enough by now that David wasn't ready to talk to _his_ family.

Dave didn't feel like lying. "No, not really. My family doesn't know that I'm…that I'm…" Kurt squeezed Dave's hand reassuringly, "gay."

Novak nodded, but had an air of disappointment about him. "What have _your_ thoughts been on the matter, then?"

"I was kind of thinking that we could run the tests and see where I stand." Kurt turned to face David, a look of incredulity on his face. He had assumed David would just abort and be done with it.

"Okay. If you're sure about that David, I can order the tests for this weekend. I'll be doing some ultrasound tests to see how your uterus is; some blood tests to see how the morning sickness is affecting your vitamin and nutrition levels; a small, "invasive" procedure to check the cervix; if things go well, a few weeks down the line we'll do an early amniocentesis to see what we can find out about the baby. With most births, with each parent contributing a single chromosome, there are two chances of an XX combination, and two chances of an XY combination. With your XXY combination and Kurt's XY combination, your child has two chances of an XX combination, three chances of an XY combination, and one chance of YY combination. A YY combination is not viable and would self-abort."

Kurt rubbed his hand over David's kneecap. "Would it be possible, if…when you're doing the invasive test, could a female doctor take care of that?" David nodded, agreeing with Kurt on this one.

"If you insist. I actually know of a female doctor in Boston who would no doubt love to get involved in your case."

"Boston?" Kurt and David asked in unison.

"She's currently in the middle of a study on male pregnancy, but subjects to study are rather rare. She has no patients at the moment, to my knowledge, so I have no doubt she would be thrilled to come to Ohio for the duration of your pregnancy should you choose to continue on."

xoxoxo

Once Novak knew David had the intention of keeping the baby (assuming the tests went well) he tentatively scheduled David in on his calendar every Saturday for the next few months. He also prescribed David prenatal drugs on top of the vitamins and anti-nausea medication. Kurt felt proud at himself for keeping his mouth relatively shut throughout the appointment; there were more than a few things he wanted to say to David, but, like a good friend, he kept his mouth closed until they were alone.

When David climbed into his vehicle, Kurt hopped into the passenger side. David, a look of confusion on his face, stared at Kurt as he pulled the door closed. "Wrong car, fancy."

"What the hell are you doing?" David cocked his head to the side; he hadn't heard Kurt raise his voice at him in a long time. "Why the hell didn't you just abort it?"

David sucked in his breath and turned away. "I still have to think about it."

"What the hell is there to think about? Just abort it and get it over with! Why the hell do you want to bring another unwanted baby into the world?"

David's nostrils started flaring he was so pissed. "Who the hell said it's unwanted?"

Kurt was taken aback by that. He unconsciously raised his hand to his chest in a look of shock. "You aren't thinking of _keeping_ it are you?" At David's look of defiant guilt, Kurt continued. "You'd be willing to spend the rest of your life looking at this kid ands thinking 'your dad raped me'?"

"I'd rather that than _murder_ it."

Kurt threw up his hands in aggravation. "You wouldn't be 'murdering' _it_. _It_ isn't a person yet. It's still a…a _thing_. A _parasite_ that's trying to kill you!"

"Yeah, well _I_ don't feel that way. This is _my_ kid. It's not its fault its dad was a rapist. Or that it might make me a little sick. It's just a _baby_. Why the hell are you making this harder than it already is?"

"_I'm_ not making this hard on you. You're doing that all on your own." Kurt felt the slightest flare of shame when he saw David bury his head in his hands and start crying. "David? David, _please_."

"You have no goddamned idea how hard this is for me. How hard it's been for me to just… _get out of bed_ every morning. I'm so fucking scared and everything hurts inside and finally… _finally_ something good might _possibly_ come out of all of this and you want to take that away from me."

Tentatively, Kurt reached over and placed a hand on David's slouched shoulder. "You really want this baby? You don't just have some psycho moral objection to abortion?"

"Anytime someone disagrees with _your_ beliefs, they aren't fucking _psycho_, Hummel. But yes. I _want_ the baby. I've _always_ wanted a little herd of rug-rats crawling all over the place and drooling on everything. That was the hardest part of realizing that I'm…that I'm _gay_. I thought I'd never get that." Kurt thought back to David's reaction the previous week when Novak had mentioned that Klinefelter's patients were normally sterile. "Now, not only do I get it, but I get it more than almost every other guy on earth. And no ultra-conservative, right-wing religious Nazi can tell me that it's wrong for me, a gay man, to have or raise kids, because their fucking god did this to me."

Kurt nodded. At least that last part made sense to him. "I don't _fully_ agree with your choice, David. I'm scared for you. But, like I've said, again and again, I'm sticking by you. No matter _how_ crazy I think you're getting."

David sniffled and ran the back of his arm roughly across his face, wiping away the tears and snot. "Thank you, Kurt. I know you think I'm an idiot, but if it makes you feel better, there's a little voice screaming at me in the back of my head that I'm fucking retarded."

Kurt smiled, "That's called 'common sense.'"

"Yeah? Well it's really fucking obnoxious. I think I'll name the voice 'Kurt.'" David looked into Kurt's eyes, a smile finally back on his face.

xoxoxo

Yesterday's fight behind them, Kurt and David were back to normal; though Kurt was being a bit more delicate with David's feelings. Trying harder than ever not to hurt him.

Kurt ran his fingers over the t-shirt press almost suggestively. He already knew what his was going to say. It was rather obvious. He was trying to help Dave figure out what to put on his own. David's greatest "flaws" were things he wasn't ready to expound upon or share with the glee club. He had considered putting "Bully" on his shirt, but Kurt reminded him it wasn't really applicable any longer. "Do you know what song you want to sing?"

Kurt put his flattened his white shirt on the press, getting ready to line everything up. He folded his fist under his chin. "I haven't really thought about it." Kurt smiled and chuckled lightly under his breath.

"What's so funny?"

"I just thought of something; I could make the others feel very uncomfortable by doing 'Boys, Boys, Boys.' I can make that song _very_ suggestive."

Dave smiled and laughed at the look Kurt was giving him. He had his hips jutted to the side, his eyebrows raised, his lips in a pouty fish face. Kurt was trying to look sexy. Dave thought he was just joking. "How about 'I'm Super' from South Park?

Kurt furrowed his brows. "I don't know that song."

"Never mind. You wouldn't get it, then. How about 'Reflection' from _Mulan_? Everyone always wants you to be someone or something that you're not. Or type-cast you as what they expect you to be."

Kurt put a hand on his hip and leaned on the t-shirt press. "Huh. That's actually a pretty good idea. I'd have to edit it a bit or there will be yet more jokes about me being a girl for the next month." Kurt looked up at David and his cheeks bloomed red with embarrassment; it would take him a while to remember to watch what he said around David.

Kurt hummed the song to himself as he got back to aligning his shirt on the press. He closed the lid and set the timer on it. Kurt stopped humming partway through, a thoughtful look on his face. After a moment he smiled and went back to humming. Kurt opened up the t-shirt press when the little timer dinged. Looking over his work, Kurt then held it up for David's appraisal.

"Awww…It should say "Likes _Dave_."

Kurt smiled and threw the shirt at David playfully. "Ok, listen to this. I re-wrote 'Reflections.'"

_Look at me_

_I will never pass for a perfect son_

_Or a perfect person_

_Can it be_

_I'm not meant to play this part?_

_Now I see_

_That if I were truly to be myself_

_I would break my fam'ly's heart_

_Who is that boy I see_

_Staring straight_

_Back at me?_

_Why is my reflection someone_

_I don't know?_

_Somehow I cannot hide_

_Who I am_

_Though I've tried_

_When will my reflection show_

_Who I am inside?_

_When will my reflection show_

_Who I am inside?_

David smiled and clapped. "I love it. But I think you should do the Christina version since it's a _bit_ longer. And the lyrics are a bit more appropriate for you."

Kurt smiled back at Dave. "_You_ know Christina Aguilera? Here I thought all you knew was the Rat Pack, Rat Pack wannabes…and that one song you auditioned with."

Dave ran his fingers through his hair, looking cocky and smug. "I know _lots_ of things. _Including_ my own limitations. I sing what I _know_ I can sing." David licked his lips and looked down nervously. "And I'm something of a closet Disney-phile."

Kurt sat down next to Dave; looking around to make sure no one was there, he quickly pecked David on the cheek. They still hadn't lip-kissed, yet. Kurt didn't know if Dave was ready for that kind of touching, so he wouldn't attempt it until Dave initiated it. "Don't be ashamed, I think that's cute. When the baby's born, how about I buy it every Disney movie ever made on Blu-Ray?" Kurt startled himself. He hadn't even really meant to say it; it had just come out. The baby had been one of the only things on his mind for the past week and now that he knew David was somehow already _attached_ to the damn thing, he was _trying_ to see it in a positive light. _Maybe I was just trying to show David how much I support his decisions?_

Dave blushed, embarrassed. "You assume I don't already have all the ones they've come out with. How about 'defensive'?"

Kurt took his bunched up shirt back from David and folded it neatly in his lap. "What do you mean?"

"For my shirt. My dad and I were fighting the other day and he said I always get defensive over shit"

"What were you fighting about?

David let out a heavy, breathy sigh and leaned on his elbows. "He thinks I'm on drugs"

"Did he find your medication or vitamins?"

"Thank god, no. But you have to admit I have been different lately. I don't ever go out, I gave up sports, I don't talk to anyone anymore, I just hang out in my room all day."

Kurt mimicked David's body language so that he could more easily look him in the face. David was still a bit shy about eye contact. "Maybe you and I can go out and have some fun?"

Sitting back up, David let out a bark of a laugh. "Oh, yeah. Me, hanging out with my former victim. Not suspicious at all."

Kurt took his hand back and shrugged, nonchalantly. "He doesn't have to know you're with me."

"Then he'll accuse me of sneaking around."

"Maybe you could hang out with Finn and Puck?"

David's formerly blank expression turned to one of dejection. "They don't want anything to do with me. They have their own thing going on and I'm not a part of it. Not now, not ever. It's the same with everyone in glee. I'm like, a standardized test; a necessary evil they just have to put up with, but can't stand."

Kurt started gathering up the supplies to make David's shirt. "I'm sorry my friends aren't more open minded. Maybe I can work on them?"

xoxoxo

**Reflection from Mulan**

**I've been told I need to work on infusing emotion into this piece. I agree with the sentiment, but just be aware that I naturally have a very strange range of emotions that are usually very limited and defined: no blending/bleeding together, no lovely little rainbow or palatte of color. It's like the Microsoft paint that came with the very early PCs; you have like, 16 colors to choose from and even blended together you could still see every freakin' pixel. I'm going to try and incorporate a bit more of David's emotions into this, but don't get your hopes too high.**


	10. Week 7b

Corresponding episode: Born This Way

Mildly graphic (medical, not sexual)

xoxoxo

After Finn's admirable performance of "I've Gotta Be Me", Kurt sang Christina Aguilera's version of "Reflection." Dave then got up for his turn. He snapped his fingers and tapped his foot in time with the band as they began his intro.

_Please don't talk about me when I'm gone,_

_Oh, honey though our friendship ceases, from now on;_

_And, listen, if you can't say anything real nice,_

_It's better not to talk at all, is my advice._

_We're parting, you go your way I'll go mine,_

_It's best that we do;_

_Here's a kiss! I hope that this brings lots of luck to you._

_Makes no difference how I carry on,_

_Remember, please don't talk about me when I'm gone._

During the long instrumentals, Dave did some dancing with the microphone stand. He had become much more comfortable with it since that first day in glee club.

The New Directions clapped for David when he finished. Dave thought he was done, but then Mr. Schu began to speak, "So David, to you, how does that fit in with the assignment?"

David thought about it for a minute. To him, it just seemed to work, he hadn't actually thought about _why_ it worked for the assignment, however. "I guess it's because I'm real self-conscious about what people think about me. Also, because I don't really seem to keep friends all that long. So this song is something I've thought to myself over and over again every time I have a falling out with someone. 'Well, shit. What are they gonna say about me behind my back now?'"

Mr. Schuester nodded, content with David's response. "Thank you for that, David."

xoxoxo

"You know, it's his own damn fault no one likes him."

Kurt put his fork down, the lettuce on it still uneaten. "Can we please not talk about this Mercedes?"

"I'm serious. I get that he's trying to change for the better and all that, but he doesn't really make a whole lot of effort, does he?" Mercedes pointed her tater tot at Kurt every few words to punctuate her thoughts.

"What do you mean?"

"You, me, Rachel, Tina, we all go to the mall and have sleep-overs. Puck, Finn, Mike, Artie and Sam all go to the gym or the park together. You and I do spa days with Quinn, Santana, and Brittany. I've dated Puck, you and Finn are brothers, you and Mike attend dance classes together every now and then. Everyone in glee is interconnected. _Except__Dave._ He's like a square peg in a round hole. He doesn't fit and he doesn't even try. Has he ever hung out with _anyone_ from glee _outside_ of glee?"

As much as he hated lying to Mercedes, he couldn't tell her the truth about his own after-school activities with Dave. "Glee club and Dave have been enemies for so long. Dave's in enemy territory; he's vastly outnumbered. Maybe he's just too shy or insecure to initiate anything with anyone. Maybe _we_ should take it upon ourselves to open ourselves up to _him_."

Mercedes gave Kurt the diva stink eye. "And what the _hell_ do you think _we_ could possibly do with Dave that wouldn't either bore _us_ to death or _him_ to death?"

xoxoxo

And that's how, after Rachel's Barbara-vention, Mercedes, Kurt, Tina, Mike and Dave wound up at the mall's Disney store. Kurt was looking at the miniature character sets. Ever since he had mentioned buying the Disney Blu-Rays the other day, he couldn't stop thinking about what it would be like to have a little person to buy fun things for. If David's baby made it to term, Kurt was positive, boy or girl, he would spoil the hell out of it. He could be the baby's "awesome uncle Kurt." Kurt looked back and forth between the Power Ranger set and the Little Mermaid set. It would just be _so_ much easier if he at least knew the _gender_!

"I mean, don't get me wrong, I fucking love Mulan. She's a badass warrior chick…like Xena. But she's _not_ a princess. She winds up with Shang; Shang is a military officer. Not royalty. And she isn't royalty either. So why the hell is _she_ a Disney princess, when Megara _isn__'__t_? Megara hooked up with friggin' Hercules: son of the _king_ of the gods. She's a hell of a lot more princess than Mulan is!"

Kurt looked over to where David's voice was coming from. A very harried-looking sales clerk stood defenseless in front of David's tirade. Kurt smiled. David was cute when he was worked up like this. And he wasn't being _mean_ to the clerk, or yelling at him. He just didn't seem to realize that the poor guy probably made minimum wage (if that) and barely even knew what a Disney princess _was_.

Kurt almost intervened when he saw Mercedes heading over, but opted to stay out of her way. Mercedes grabbed David by the arm and dragged him away from the clerk and over towards the _Cars_ section of toys. "Boy, quit being a dumbass and leave that man alone."

"I just think it's messed up that both _Hercules_ and _The__Lion__King_ came out in the nineties and still aren't represented by the Disney Princess line while _Tiana_ has been out a year or so and is already in the line."

"Yeah? Well _I_ think it's messed up that it took Disney until _2009_ to have a black heroine!"

"Tiana is _not_ Disney's first black heroine."

"Bullshit she ain't."

Kurt watched with interest. _He_ certainly couldn't think of another black Disney heroine. "Forgetting for a moment the fact that both Nala and Kiara were African for a moment, because, let's face it, an African _lion_ is significantly different than an African _person_: you are overlooking Brandy."

Mercedes looked confused and taken aback. "Who the hell is Brandy?"

David smiled and sighed, amused at Mercedes 'ignorance.' "In 1997, Disney did an amazing all-star remake of Rodger's and Hammerstein's _Cinderella_, casting Brandy, _a__black__woman_ as Cinderella. It also cast Whoopi Goldberg as the queen and Whitney Houston as the fairy godmother."

"I never heard of that."

David shrugged. "Most people haven't, I think. Brandy and Whitney Houston got in a fight over whose name would appear first in the crediting on the accompanying soundtrack. It was never resolved so no soundtrack was ever released, and since Disney _thrives_ on the music in their movies, it lost valuable traction."

Mercedes just shook her head as she walked away. "It _still_ doesn't count."

xoxoxo

"So what's _your_ shirt supposed to mean?" Finn tugged on the front of David's "Offensive/Defensive" "Born This Way" shirt once they had finished up their performance.

David looked down at where Finn had snapped the material and then back up at Finn. "Well, I have a tendency to get really defensive when people say or do things that I don't like; but, over the past few years, I've become so obsessed with protecting myself from any imagined attack, that…I have a tendency to _strike_ _first_, so to speak. Rather than dealing with things in a normal way or letting them roll off my back, I go on the offense or the defense."

Puck nodded. "I'm kind of the same way sometimes. Then again, I'm usually a jerk just cause I _can_." Puck smiled like he was proud of that fact.

"Dude, you put _way_ too much thought into your shirt." Dave just shrugged at Finn. "'Bully' probably would have been a lot easier."

"Or 'Wooly Mammoth'" Puck stage whispered the comment, and let out a soft chuckle.

Kurt watched as Dave tensed, his face turning red. He was fairly certain he could even see the hackles rise on the back of David's neck. Kurt wasn't the only one who could see David's apparent anger. Finn, Lauren, Puck, Kurt, and Mike all watched as David clenched and unclenched his fists. Just as Kurt was certain David would throw a punch at Puckerman, David turned on his heel and stormed out of the auditorium.

Kurt threw his nastiest glare at Puck, muttered "_Asshole_" just loud enough for him to hear and followed after David.

xoxoxo

If Kurt ever found the guy who raped David, he would murder him. He would sink his teeth into his throat and just rip it out. But first he would force the guy's dick through a paper shredder. David's Saturday appointment had started out well enough; they met the specialist from Boston, who turned out to be a young Indonesian woman named Dr. Laya. She and Dr. Novak had taken Kurt and David to an examination room that had been specially prepared for all the tests Dr. Novak had planned. The ultrasound had gone well, his blood sample had been sent to the lab, and it was too early for the amniocentesis. The only test remaining was the one David was currently undergoing.

David was curled up on his side in the fetal position. He had a blanket covering his lower half, the blanket lifted behind him so Novak and Laya could see what they were doing. Kurt sat in front of David, holding his hands as the larger boy trembled and wept. Neither Kurt nor David had told the two doctors that David had been raped; they had no idea how badly they were traumatizing him as they examined his cervix. They probably thought his soft whimpers were from the pain.

Kurt wasn't sure how long it took, but Laya eventually lowered the blanket back over David and told him everything was looking good. Novak announced he and Laya would go and check out David's blood test results. Once they were alone, Kurt shut the privacy curtain for David. "Are you okay, hun?"

"Yeah. _Great_. It fucking hurt and it was embarrassing as all hell." David pulled the privacy curtain back open. David was redressed and sitting on the gurney bed.

Kurt went over and sat next to him. As David wrapped his arms around Kurt's middle, and leaned his chin on Kurt's shoulder, Kurt turned his head to kiss David on the chin. "Everything is gonna be okay now. The worst is over and pretty soon, we'll know exactly what to expect."

All of David's test results came back better than they had expected. Neither doctor had observed anything that would give them concern as to David's physical capability to carry the baby. Even the blood tests came back looking good. All the supplements Novak had suggested for David had kept his nutritional levels acceptable; the only concern the blood work presented was a mild anemia. There was still a lot that could go wrong with the pregnancy. However, David's mind was set; he was going to try and carry the baby to term.


	11. Week 8

**Corresponding episode: Rumours**

**Mildly graphic (medical, not sexual)**

**AN: Did you know doesn't publish stories unless you enter the chapter in "manage stories" ? Yeah? Well I forgot. That's why this and the last one took so long.**

**For those that asked, the story I asked about either was "Want Me" (story number 6935216/1/ ) by Mark Ash. Good story, check it out (too bad it's "dead," no longer updating)**.

xoxoxo

Yes, it had been absolutely hilarious to watch Finn blow up at Sam after the McKinley _Muckraker_ came out. What hadn't been so funny was the second edition. "_What __F__ormer __Jock __is __Battling __a __Monkey __on __His __Back?__" _David just let his head hang between his knees as the other gleeks accosted him over the latest article.

"Dude! It totally makes sense: you being sick all the time, giving up sports_,__joining__glee_? What the hell else could it be?" Puckerman stood in front of David, hands on his hips, feet shoulder width apart in a power stance, bent slightly at the hip so he could look down at David. "Look, dude. I've been there; I know what it's like. You've always been totally straightedge. I get it. You're in over your head and can't handle the shit you've gotten yourself into. I know a couple guys who can help you mellow as you get back on the narrow."

Dave shook his head as he slouched back in the chair. "I'm not on any fucking drugs, okay? I'm not on any sports because I _hate_ being friggin' catcher every year for the baseball team, I'm still getting over that flu shit I had a few weeks ago, and all of _you_ joined glee and I doubt any of _you_ are on drugs." David gestured around himself to the other members of New Directions. Kurt sat in the last row, on the other side of the room from him. David wasn't sure whether to be pissed Kurt wasn't sticking up for him, or glad that Kurt wasn't. After all, if Kurt _always_ stood up for David, it would start to look suspicious to the other singers. "Why is it _you_ can all be in glee, no problem, but the second _I_ join, I've gotta be on drugs or something?" David stood up, shoving his hands into the pockets of his letterman. Throwing a final "fuck you" over his shoulder, he walked out of the rehearsal room.

Kurt, an arm laid across his lap while he examined the nails on his free hand stated point blankly "He's not doing drugs."

Santana rolled her eyes. "Bullshit. I've seen that boy popping enough pills that Lindsay Lohan would accuse him of having a problem. That boy be doing some serious shit and if he doesn't get his act together, he's going to be doing some hard-time."

Kurt raised his eyebrows in a bitchy-nonchalant sort of way, kind of saying "is that so?" to Santana. "Ever consider that they're antibiotics of some kind? After all, he wasn't taking drugs, got sick. Now he's taking drugs and he's _not_ sick. Sounds a bit cause and effect-ish to _me_."

"Oh-puh-_leeze_. Even Skittles don't have that many colors in the rainbow. Dave's got his paws on the good shit and like Puck said, he's been such a good little boy scout for so long, treating his body like it's the goddamned _Mount __Olympus_ of temples, that he has no idea how to handle it."

"Besides, he _is_ still sick. I heard him throwing up in the bathroom after lunch yesterday." Everyone looked at Mike. Mike had been one of the least-inclined to listen to the rumors going around, so it was interesting to the group that he was siding with Puck and Santana.

"And he looks pale…and _gaunt_ lately. Don't drugs make your skin sallow?" Kurt's eyes went wide as he looked at Rachel. It was okay for Santana and Puck and Mike to comment on David's peculiarities lately, because they weren't a threat. They couldn't care _less_ what happened to other people. Rachel on the other hand would likely get her bird-beak in where it didn't belong and just peck around until she found a nice juicy worm.

Mercedes turned in her chair next to Kurt to face him. "He's _your_friend, Kurt. I know you want all of us to play nicey-nice with him, but none of us are as comfortable talking to him as you are. You need to go up to him, lay down the facts, and tell that boy to get _help_. I know we all prefer _this_ David to the Karofsky that used to terrorize us, but the fact is, if he's literally killing himself to be a better person, I think we'd all be willing to take a slushy or two if it just meant he was okay."

"What _facts_, Mercedes? You're all just throwing around circumstantial evidence. David is _not_ doing drugs."

"Here, listen to this." The members of New Directions all looked over at Tina as she read from her phone. "_Signs__of__drug__abuse_." Kurt rolled his eyes. They would _not_ let this go.

_Changes in appetite or sleep patterns_

_Engaging in secretive or suspicious behaviors. _

_Sudden change in friends, favorite hangouts, and hobbies. _

_Unexplained change in personality or attitude. _

_Sudden mood swings, irritability, or angry outbursts. _

_Periods of unusual hyperactivity, agitation, or giddiness._

_Lack of motivation; appears lethargic or "spaced out."_

_Appears fearful, anxious, or paranoid, with no reason._

"All of these fit David. Almost ever since he joined glee. " Mike nodded along with Tina as she passed her phone off to Artie so he could look at it.

"Yeah, he left the baseball team right before he joined glee. And Az and Strando haven't talked to him in _weeks_." Finn was looking Kurt dead in the eye. Apparently every gleek had made up their mind about David and felt the need to bring Kurt over to their way of thinking.

"Fine, I'll talk to David, but only so it'll shut you all up." Kurt stood and marched out of the choir room. Quinn followed Kurt out, catching up to Kurt's longer strides once they were around the corner.

She grabbed onto his messenger bag, forcing him to stop and face her. "You and I _both_ know what they printed about me and Sam isn't true. We _both_ know that the _Muckraker_ is just trying to destroy us from the inside out." Kurt nodded, glad someone was finally willing to listen to reason. "But Kurt, even you have to admit, there really is no other explanation. He needs a friend right now, Kurt. _Help__him_."

Kurt bit on his lower lip and shook his head, looking up and away to try and stave off the tears. But then he relented, squeezing his eyes shut in an attempt to compose himself, he nodded. "You're right, Quinn. He _does_ need help. But not for the reasons everybody thinks."

xoxoxo

David was in the bathroom off of the auditorium. It was out of the way, so almost no one ever went in there. His stomach had already been feeling queasy when he saw what that damned newspaper had to say and listening to all those high and mighty assholes tell him he "had a problem" had just made it worse. His morning sickness, hormones and low self-esteem were at the moment bubbling up through his esophagus and emptying into the ceramic bowl in front of him (along with most of what he had eaten that day). He felt a small hand rubbing delicately up and down his back, then a soft voice murmured, "God, I do _not_ miss this."

David shot up like a bolt and turned around to face Quinn; Kurt stood a few feet behind her, his head down, a look (of guilt? of shame?) on his face. "I'm sorry, David. I needed _someone_ to talk to. Someone who would understand. Someone who had been there."

David didn't know what to say, what to think. But Quinn saved him from having to say anything. "It's okay, David. I won't tell anyone. I _know_ what you're going through. And I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy. Besides, I think it's kind of _cute_. Like _Beauty__and__the__Beast,_ almost." David looked between Kurt and Quinn, confusion spelt out across his features.

xoxoxo

"So she thinks _you__'__re_ the dad?"

Kurt and Dave were sitting in the auditorium, as per usual, although it wasn't third period. It was well after school had released for the day. "I needed her to _know_, you know? I just…I'm so sorry, Dave. I had to _tell_ someone. Not…a doctor: some sterilized, PhD who only sees us as specimens for a dissertation. A _real_ person. But at the same time, I couldn't tell her about the party." Kurt let out a chuckle. "I value my life _far_ too much to risk telling anyone about that."

"You could have said the dad was anyone, or that you didn't know."

Kurt resisted the urge to shrug and ran his fingers through his hair instead. "The doctors both think I'm the dad. Hell, I'm so used to them talking to me about "our future concerns and responsibilities" that I sometimes have to remind myself that I wasn't exactly there for the conception."

David forced himself to smile and reached across the armrest to take Kurt's hand. "Maybe not, but you've been there a hell of a lot more than many dads these days. And you're welcome to be there as long as you want." Kurt wrapped his free hand around their entwined fingers, smiling softly to himself. He could sense, more than see, David move closer. When he looked up to face David, he was surprised with a warm moisture pressing against his lips. _This__is__it__…__my__first,__**real**__kiss_.

xoxoxo

"David, I've heard a lot of concerning rumors going around lately."

David sat in front of Mr. Shu's desk, staring at the cutout of a G-clef on the wall. _Goddamned__Berry,__it__had__to__be__her._ "Yep. There are a _bunch_ going around." David licked his lips and avoided looking at Mr. Schu, instead, eyeing all the different decorations and pictures on the walls.

"I just want to hear, _from__you_, that they're just that. _Rumors_." Will had his hands folded patiently on his desk. David had always been a tricky kid to work with. He thrived on positive reinforcement, yet, at the same time, it could be hard to tell what David would consider positive. He had praised David in front of his peers in Spanish class a week ago for correctly naming all the countries with Spanish as the official language, yet instead of pleasing David, the poor boy had turned beet red and nearly started crying. Will decided to avoid putting any spotlight on David in the classroom for the foreseeable future.

What Will _didn__'__t_ know, was that David hadn't even been listening to the praise. He had been looking at a picture of a horse, dressed up in some frilly outfit for a festival that Mr. Schu had on the wall. The picture had reminded Dave of an ASPCA commercial where they were showing two possible fates for baby animals. The poor horse foal was shipped to some third world country where it was worked to death and sold as meat. David had tried so hard not to cry at the memory of the commercial that he had turned red from the effort. He hated these stupid hormones. The stupidest shit made him want to start crying and half the time he couldn't even figure out why!

"I swear to you Mr. Schu. The worst "drug" I have ever done is Budweiser. I don't ever even drink _hard_ alcohol."

Mr. Schuester nodded, believing David's honest-sounding pledge. "Okay, David. Get back to class."

xoxoxo

"Here."

Puck didn't even bother to wait around to see if David looked at the flyer he had given him. But David did look, out of curiosity, of course. He nearly cursed under his breath when he saw the "Narcotics Anonymous" title at the top of the flyer. It had obviously been ripped down from some church or temple bulletin seeing as a corner was ripped off and there were still un-bent staples in the other corners. David balled the flyer up in his fist and stood, facing the New Directions. "I am not on any fucking drugs! Okay? I'm sick and I'm taking meds for that."

Rachel shook her head, a look of sympathy on her face. "The first step is admittance, David. You don't have to admit it to us, but at _least_ to yourself."

David pulled out one of the chairs from the first row and sat down on it, his legs splayed on either side of the chair-back. "I am _not_ a druggy." David took a deep breath. "I didn't want to tell any of you this, but" Kurt sucked in his breath in anticipation. "when I got sick a few weeks ago, I went to the doctors."

_Oh,__dear__god._ Kurt thought. _Finn __will __tell __Dad __and __then __Dad __will __flay __me __alive!_

"I have an intestinal disease that makes it difficult for me to digest food. That's why I throw up a lot. My body rejects a lot of what I try to eat." _Intestinal__disease?_ Kurt sighed in relief. "The medication is mostly to help me keep food down and to supplement the nutrition I'm losing from not being able to eat a well-balanced meal." David paused to gauge their reactions.

"I'm tired because I'm up all night trying not to throw up or fighting off hunger pangs. That's also why I look weird. I gave up sports because I can't get my calorie intake up high enough to sustain me playing anything. Even before I went to the doctors I was feeling exhausted all the time. I joined glee because, without sports, I don't have any friends or anything to do. I got bored and figured if I was going to take a dive-bomb on the McKinley High pecking order, I may as well at least have fun doing it. Any other questions?"

One-by-one, the gleeks apologized. A few of the girls (Tina, Quinn, and Mercedes) actually got up to hug David. Puck had the decency to keep his mouth shut and just looked ashamed of himself. Mr. Schu patted David on the shoulder and gave him his best encouraging smile he could muster.

xoxoxo

Kurt was half asleep in bed when he heard his phone vibrating. Rolling over he picked it up. Groggily sliding the unlock button, Kurt groaned out "Hello?"

"I took your advice."

Kurt recognized David's voice on the other end of the line. And despite the ungodly hour, he sounded wide-awake. "Which advice?"

"I called a rape hotline."

Kurt felt as though a weight had been lifted, not from his shoulders, but from his chest. It was as thought a vice had been choking his heart: seeing David in so much pain and him refusing almost any offers of help. It was such a relief to Kurt that he was not only accepting help, but actively seeking it out.

xoxoxo

**I think "Rumours" may well have been the worst episode of the season, but am rather proud of myself for what I was able to get out of it. **


	12. Week 8b

**Important AN: So, I've been keeping the story six chapters ahead of what's published so that I can always publish roughly two chapters a week, no matter how lazy I'm being. The Friday before last, one of my students broke my thumb drive where I keep all my document backups. That was fine and all…until my computer froze up on the following Tuesday. After failing to restart, I took it to the "geniuses" at the Apple store…my hard drive is officially shot to hell (despite not having celebrated its first birthday). Everything I've EVER written (several unpublished fics, several megabytes of poetry, several unpublished novels, all of my pictures, all of my work, etc, etc, etc.) was on that laptop. I've sent the hard drive to a specialist in California. If they are able to get my files back, I'll continue publishing as normal. If not, I will rewrite the chapters that got lost (although they will likely be a significantly lower quality due to a crippled muse). Until then…several reviewers mentioned that they would like to see David's conversation with the rape hotline; your wish is my command.**

**Also, there have been numerous requests that I write a sequel to "Shadows of Tomorrow" (despite the incessant spamming that an anonymous Klaine-shipper keeps sending along the lines of "you're going to hell for this, blah, blah, blah…"). I've wanted to do a sequel for a while, but the muse was absent. Well, she's back and horny as ever, so I'll be doing the SoT sequel (as well as a PG prequel). The sequel and prequel will just be updates to the existing story (I hate when sequels to one-shots are their own stand-alone story. It makes it hard to find the updates). **

**I'll know the status of all my files within the week. If they're salvable, I'll let ya'll know!**

**BTW, I suck mega monkey-balls at prolonged conversations, so this will be more or less a dialogue chapter…**

**Also, (last AN, I promise!), I've never called a rape hotline, couldn't find **_**anything**_** on-line that tells you what happens when you call one, and I didn't feel like calling one for research purposes. If this looks like what you might find, awesome, if not, I tried my best!**

**Corresponding episode: Rumours**

**xoxoxo**

Kurt and Dr. Amber knew the truth about everything. Quinn and the other doctors knew about his pregnancy. Mr. Schu knew there was something _very_ wrong with him. The rest of the glee club knew he was sick. It was getting easier and easier to talk about what was going on in his life. And these were people he knew. What about talking to someone he never had to talk to ever again? Someone who didn't know him? Someone he would never even see? Someone who wouldn't so much as know his name if he didn't want them to? It was always so much easier to be anonymous. When he was younger, when he had first been given his own computer with Internet, it had been so easy to be whomever he wanted in chat rooms and forums. Anonymity had been his friend, was it possibly that it would continue to be his friend?

His parents weren't home; his dad was busy at work still, his mom was at her sister's. He was all alone for the next two hours, at least. If there was ever a time to call that number Kurt had given him, it was now. David held his cell phone in his hand, tilting it back and forth, praying that the bars disappeared so he would have an excuse not to call. Alas, his phone maintained three bars, more than enough to have a hassle-free conversation. After waiting a few more minutes, he started dialing in the number Kurt had given him weeks ago.

It rang for only a few moments before a voice answered on the other end of the line and announced her name (Jenna) and the name of the service he had called. It wasn't a wrong number; it was the same hotline Kurt had said it was.

David held his breath for a moment, not sure if he wanted to hang up or not. After reminding himself he could hang up anytime he wanted, he cleared his throat. "Ummm…Hi. My name's Daaaahhhh…Derrick. My friend gave me this number." Dave practically choked on his own name. It would be too real if this stranger were calling him by his real name.

"So, what would you like to talk about, Derrick?"

"A few weeks ago…no, a few months ago, now…I was at this party." David stopped for a moment, there was too much back-story; she wouldn't understand. He needed to start at the beginning. "You see, about a year ago, I realized that…I'm, I'm gay. There was this kid at school; he was open about being gay and everything. I wasn't. I'm _not_. I used to hassle him and everything; he had to transfer schools."

"Would you be more comfortable speaking with another homosexual? We have a few volunteers I could transfer you to…"

"Ummm…no. I'm pretty okay. You're fine….Unless you're uncomfortable with me being gay."

"No, I thought you'd just prefer someone who could empathize better. Although I kind of understand where you're coming from; I had a friend a few years ago that was real defensive about his sexuality. He would use "gay" and "fag" to describe anyone or anything he didn't like. I guess it's a common defense mechanism."

"He was your friend?"

"I use the term loosely." David smiled and was pretty certain he could hear a hint of amusement in Jenna's voice as well.

"Anyway. He transferred schools to get away from me. I was miserable without him; he was the only one who knew my secret and I had no one to talk to." David paused for a moment, letting her digest everything he was saying. "Anyway, I went to this gay party…not _gay_ as in stupid or anything, gay as in…everyone there was gay…or bi. Well, while I was there, this guy got me drunk and…shit happened."

"I'm assuming this is 'shit' that you didn't _want _ to happen?"

"No. He drugged me." David felt somewhat relieved that this wasn't like AA or anything. He didn't have to stand up, announce his name and that he was raped. The girl (woman?) on the other end of the line seemed to understand what happened without him specifically _saying _it. "The kid I used to hassle, K…evin, found me the next morning, passed out. He took me to the hospital."

"Is this the same friend that gave you our number?"

"He's the only one who really knows _everything_. He's been my savior. He wanted me to talk to someone. He thinks it'll help me."

"Do _you_ think it's helping?"

"I…don't know yet." David thought about that for a moment. He didn't feel _better_, but he didn't really _hurt_ to talk about it. Not like he thought it would.

"If it feels uncomfortable, we can back off a bit and talk about something else, okay?"

"Yeah…that sounds fine. So, after everything happened, Kevin came back to school to help me through this, even though no one else really knows. I lost all my old friends. I couldn't stand being around them; they were loud and touchy. I can't deal with that, not after everything that happened."

"What do you mean by 'touchy'?"

"Well, pushing each other around, slapping each other's backs. Occasional bro-hugs. Stuff like that."

"Okay. I'm not a guy, so I wasn't entirely sure what you meant."

"That's okay. So…I left the football team, too. The locker room still freaks me out. It always has to some degree. But Kevin, back in November, I forced myself on him. Just a kiss. He says it's no big deal, but it was his first kiss and everything."

"I can see why the locker room would make you uncomfortable."

"Yeah…I kinda feel like I got my karma." David swiped his fingernails over his teeth, cleaning out the gunk under them. "A few weeks after the party, I started getting sick. Kurt-KEVIN!, _Kevin_ made me go see a doctor. We found out I have a rare genetic defect that makes me…I'm not like…"

"It's okay, Derrick, I don't judge."

"I'm not _strictly_ a guy. Apparently I'm also a fucking woman." David could feel himself getting hot. It was getting harder to talk. "I have a uterus and everything a chick has, but also everything a dude has."

"O…kay…"

"The guy at the party…he got me pregnant." David started speaking faster; he didn't want to be able to hear any of Jenna's responses on the other end of the line during a pause. "My parents don't know anything. _Anything_. They don't know I'm gay, that I'm a hermaphrodite, that I was raped, that I'm pregnant. They think I'm on drugs-Well, I _am_, but they're all for the pregnancy and my hormones and my morning sickness and…it _really_ sucks."

There was a moment of silence on the phone. David worried for a moment that Jenna had hung up. But then he could hear her take a breath. "Okay…that is a _lot_ for two teenagers to be dealing with."

"I know."

"So, I'm assuming you're seeing a doctor since you're on pregnancy drugs and everything?"

"Yeah…I don't like talking to them, though. They don't know about the rape. They think Kurt's the dad." David felt so weak from pouring out his soul that he didn't even notice he had said Kurt's name again.

"Does Kurt know? I mean does he know that the doctors think he's the dad?"

"Yeah. He's been going along with it. He told a girl at school…this chick that was pregnant last year…that I'm pregnant and that he's the dad."

"How do _you_ feel about _that_?

"I…like Kurt a _lot_. I've always liked him. I wish he _were_ the dad."

"What's your relationship with Kurt like?"

"We're dating…kind of. We never really 'go out' and, I'm not comfortable with a lot of touching, but we kiss sometimes. And we hold hands a lot."

"So both of you are comfortable with Kurt playing the part of the father?"

"It's…easier for me. I can pretend that he _is_ the dad and try to forget that the real one exists. And…I think Kurt just wants to be loved. I…fucking _worship_ him and I think he knows that. If he plays the part of Daddy, he's got a little makeshift family. I know that this isn't the healthiest relationship possible and I'm not deluded enough to think it'll last…hell, I keep waiting for him to tell me he can't deal with my shit anymore. But, I think I'll ride this wave as long as possible. I _really_ love him."

"I'm not a relationship counselor, but just so long as you're aware it probably won't last. So, how are you feeling about everything else?"

"It's... _weird_. Nothing really physically changes day-to-day, but sometimes I wake up and just want to cry. Or I feel numb. Or I feel fine and then…BAM…everything just starts crashing down around me."

"Sounds like depression…or anxiety. Although it could also be hormones. Have you considered talking to a professional psychologist? I'm sure your doctor could find you one who can deal with your… _unique_ issues."

"I'm on more than enough drugs right now." David sat down on the edge of his bed. He hadn't even realized he had been pacing the entire conversation. "I think…just _talking_ is helping." David stifled a melancholy laugh, "Guess it's the chick in me."

"I'm glad talking about it is working for you."

"Yeah…thanks for listening. I think…I'm just about talked-out for tonight. If I call back, will I get you or someone else?"

"You'll get whoever picks up first, though you can always request me by name, if you're more comfortable."

David nodded to himself. "Yeah, thanks. I think…I think things might get better, you know?"

"In my experience, they always do."

"Thanks Jenna."

"You're welcome, Derrick."

David frowned for a moment. Who the hell was Derrick? Oh, yeah…"My name's Dave, I'll talk to you later."

"Bye, _Dave_."

He chuckled to himself. "Bye."


End file.
